First Contact
by Yakolev
Summary: A Halcyian Special Forces unit, one of many tasked with hunting a powerful militia, finds that rifles and missiles are not the only things that define their war. Instead, a shadowy force lurks, one whose surface has not even been scratched... AU/anthro
1. Assault

Obligatory disclaimer: I don't own Pokemon.

Oh, and to new readers, forgive the shoddy writing. This was my first chapter in uh... my entire life, so it's not exactly great D: The quality picks up later... I think.

Chapter 1: Assault

SNAP!

The sound of pliers cutting through a chain link fence reverberated throughout the entire camp.

"Damn it, Shadrach, couldn't you be a bit quieter? We're already going to get caught as is."

The Umbreon attending to the metal mesh didn't bother to look back, knowing that even if he tried he couldn't see his accomplice. His chocolate-brown hair glinted in the moonlight, and his glowing rings, despite his heavily dark clothing, were still noticeable, albeit from five feet away. "Sorry, sorry," he sighed. "I'll try to be quieter next time."

Behind him, the air shimmered a bit. A slim Latias dressed in a skintight suit materialized, peering at the seemingly simple job. "Couldn't you use your poison to dissolve it? It can't be that tough."

"That's the problem, Siria. Apparently this base could afford some decent material to make these fences, because this metal is beyond state-of-the-art. I doubt even a Charizard's Blast Burn could dissolve this."

The dragon smirked. "And that's why you can cut through them with cheap pliers we picked up at a retail store."

Shadrach snipped another piece of wire, proving to her its flimsiness. "The thing that I didn't mention is that they were too dumb to make it resistant to physical force. Apparently they got too used to us sending special attacks over the horizon."

She watched him continue to cut the fence, rolling her eyes. "If only you could turn invisible…"

"Hey, I wasn't born with down or anything of that sort, and even if I did, I don't have the money to afford those invisibility suits that you have. I've already tried my best to dim my rings as much as possible," he retorted as the last link broke. Shadrach stood up, looking at his handiwork. "By any rate, it looks like we can enter now." The formerly solid structure now had a small but passable hole in it.

Siria silently nodded, going over the plan in her mind. Enter the facility, neutralize the guards, gain access to the control room, get the data, wipe all traces, go out the way they came in…. The Umbreon had only made her rehearse it a million times.

"Siria, what are you doing? Hurry up!" her partner hissed, already on the other side of the fence.

She hit the dirt, crawling quickly but carefully to ensure that neither her suit nor her wings got cut by the metal. Within ten seconds the Latias worked her way through the hole.

"Ok, now, give me a quick rundown of everybody in the area," Shadrach commanded.

Focusing her mind, Siria began to track and analyze the minds of the camp's members.

She whispered, "I can sense two guards in the back entrance. One of them is patrolling, and the other is…." Siria faintly blushed.

"I won't ask. Anything else? There has to be some sort of security in the control room."

"There are three doing patrols in the hallway. They're bored, but still alert."

Shadrach finished writing on a pad and finalized his tactics. "There's far less security here than I expected, but we shouldn't look a gift Rapidash in the mouth." He tapped his pen, hemming and hawing. "Ok, here's the plan. The outside guards are easy enough. I can get the two of them with my Confuse Ray. However, the ones in front of the main room are a bit more difficult. If my own assessment is right, they're in a position so that the other two can see one of their own going down."

"Which means…"

"We'll have to do what we did last time, and hope we get lucky."

Siria turned around to face him, wearing a mask of incredulity. "Do you even remember what happened then? I snorted a Dragon Pulse and compromised the whole thing!"

The Umbreon shrugged. "We don't have a choice. I can't think of another way to go about doing this."

After fuming and pacing for a minute, Siria finally agreed. "Fine, but you owe me dinner if this goes awry," she complained as she turned invisible.

The bodies of a Raticate and a Houndoom dropping were the only sounds that could be heard outside. Sparing only a glance at the menacing façade of the building, Shadrach and Siria sneaked through its doors. As they moved to the heart of the facility, they tiptoed from room to room, checking for any 'mon Siria might have missed. The slight luminescent glow of the map they held was the only hint that two intruders were about.

After at least half an hour of stealthy movement, they reached the three guards that Shadrach had mentioned.

"Ready?" the Umbreon asked, grinning despite the gravity of the mission.

Siria nodded, groaning as she did so. "Arceus, if we screw this up…."

"Then we'll never hear the end of it from the others. More incentive to get it right."

The Latias, choosing not to further pursue the topic, readied her mind and focused it on only one thing.

"Go." The Umbreon aimed a thin yellow ray at his partner.

"Urghh…" she mumbled as she became delirious. She then began to execute the strategy in the few precious seconds she had before she lost all sanity. As her body crumpled against the wall, she began to murmur while Shadrach hoped to the Distortion that Siria would get this right.

Apparently, she did. Moments later, the three Pokémon began to drop, falling prey to the amplified confusion. The Latias picked herself up off the ground, smiling a bit.

"Thank Arceus your confusion allowed you to pick Psycho Shift," the Umbreon said.

"Yeah. If it didn't, then we'd…"

"We'd be royally screwed. Now come on, we still have a mission to finish." Shadrach kindly but firmly pulled Siria to the steel barricade that guarded their target. Knowing the next task, she focused her psychic pulses on the lock, executing the same movements she practiced back at base. Pushing the pins up, she rotated them to the right, opened the door, and walked in. A second later, she wished she hadn't.

"AAAAAAAAAR-" she screamed until Shadrach put a hand over her mouth.

"Shut up. We got this far, and you want to quit now? I thought I told you about this."

"B-but…but…." She sat down, and pointed at a glass vial. A deformed fetus, one that appeared to be a Pidgey and Bidoof spliced together, floated within. Many others similar to it lined the spacious wall of the science lab, but she couldn't bear to look at them. "There's a difference between talking about them and seeing them!" she cried.

With a look of sympathy, the Umbreon knelt down. "I know," he murmured. "That's why they assigned us this mission. We can put an end to this and never talk about it again."

As Siria, haunted by the morphs, continued to sit on the floor, her partner made his way to the computer in the center of the room. With the assistance of screwdrivers, Shadrach had its hard drive in his paws in the matter of seconds. Reassembling the computer and wiping it of all paw prints, he turned back to the Latias.

"C'mon, we have to get going now. We got what we came for."

"Just give me a minute…."

Shadrach looked around, assuming a businesslike demeanor. "We don't have a minute. I don't know how long my Confuse Ray will work on those guards."

After several painful seconds, Siria stood up with the assistance of her partner. "Promise me…"

"Promise you what?"

"That we burn this place to the ground before this war is over."

"Siria…."

Suddenly, Shadrach's face turned from one of pity to one of shock as he heard hurried footsteps and yells in the halls.

"What the hell happened? One moment we were standing outside and next we were knocked out!" he heard a Raticate bellow.

"I don't know! All we know is that we have intruders to be dealt with," an accompanying voice responded.

"Well, shit. All of this work sneaking around for nothing. Well, hopefully we won't get too hurt," the Umbreon sighed, drawing an apple core from his pack.

"You take the Houndoom, I'll take the Raticate," Siria replied as she finished crunching on a Chilan berry.

"Glad to see that you recovered so quickly." Shadrach grinned.

The two 'mon moved to the sides of the steel door where they couldn't be seen so easily, and assumed battle stances.

As the two that Shadrach had incapacitated before burst through the door, the hiding pair both attacked at once. Siria directed a Dragon Pulse at the Raticate, catching him in the face; the Umbreon stared at the Houndoom and used Mean Look, taking his attention away from his felled comrade.

"Who the hell are you?" the fiery dog growled.

"No one you need to know about," replied Shadrach before he sprayed his foe with a lethal Toxic attack.

"ARGH!" the Houndoom roared as he clawed at his eyes. However, the Umbreon didn't wait for his opponent to prepare for another attack. Setting up in the manner all Umbreon were taught to, he began to replicate himself, and the copies all surrounded the victimized dog.

"I'll get you, you bastard!" Although the Houndoom was quick, he could not eliminate all of the duplicates before Shadrach produced more. The poison slowly began to take hold of the fire type as well, his bones turning a dull, malign purple.

As the Umbreon snickered at his incompetent foe, a yell of pain brought his attention to another battle. Siria stood there, clinging her half-frozen arm with a distraught expression.

"Raticate…Ice Beam…what?"

Before Shadrach could react, the Raticate surged forward with a Quick Attack, landing a full body blow on the Latias. She slammed into the shelves, which collapsed and dropped almost all of the jars. Her vulnerability to physical attacks did not help her situation, for she did not get up after the attack.

"Siria!" Shadrach moved quickly, charging a Faint Attack before teleporting behind the rat and decking him. However, for all of his might, Shadrach was an Umbreon, and was hardly gifted in the physical sector. The Raticate, distracted from fantasies of kicking Siria down the hall, turned around to eye his newfound enemy.

What he didn't expect was a pair of eyes staring back at him, glowing in eerie patterns.

"You…ugh…rrgh…" the Raticate stammered as he teetered back and forth, allowing Shadrach to deftly deliver a blow to the neck and faint him. Seconds later the rat's unconsciousness was accompanied by the Houndoom's, finally retired because of the poisons destroying his body.

"I really wish we didn't have to fight, but what's done can't be undone. We can, however, hide the bodies," Shadrach commented, forgetting that the Latias was not at his side. "Wait…shit! Siria!"

Whipping out a Potion, he rushed to her aid. She lay among the broken glass that once held the disgusting bodies that were littered on the ground. Uncapping the bottle, the Umbreon sprayed her body with the medicine until she slowly came to her senses.

"Wha…where am I? What happened?" Siria then made the unwise decision of looking around her. This time, Shadrach did not stop the bloodcurdling scream that came from the dragon.

"We need to get out of here," he muttered. "Siria, help me with these bodies. We'll shove them in the lockers."

Sobbing, she silently stood up and complied, grabbing the legs of the poisoned Houndoom while Shadrach took hold of his arms. They carried him to a rusty, browned locker, set him upright inside, and closed the door. Siria fully expected him to melt the box to the ground if he ever woke up, but that would occur long after they left.

As she turned to the Raticate, Siria yelped. How was the bastard still awake even after the damage he took? Staggering, he took a running start and lunged at the Umbreon, who was still working on sealing the Houndoom in the locker. She heard a slash and a shout before she was able to aim a Dragon Pulse at the rat's back. The Raticate fell to the ground once again, subdued by not sleep but sheer pain and exhaustion.

"Shadrach! Shadrach!" she yelled. The familiar Umbreon face was no longer intact, with two long, bleeding wounds renting it.

"I'll be fine…argh!" he grunted as the Latias applied a Wish to his face.

"C'mon, let's get out of here." As Shadrach tried to get up, she was already pushing the body into another locker.

"Yeah, let's."

Luckily, the three guards outside of the room hardly heard the commotion, still subdued by the enhancements of Psycho Shift. Two dark figures stole from the room and darted towards the entrance of the building, relying on nothing but memory. Siria was about to rejoice at their escape until…

A Glaceon in a business suit, accompanied by several Arcanine, greeted the two at the entrance. As soon as he saw the Latias and the Umbreon, his raised paw came forward, and searing fire blazed forth from the canines' muzzles.

Siria grunted and took the blow, her dragon typing allowing her to resist it. However, Shadrach was not as lucky. His yellow rings began to turn a sickly brown as he began to become burned, and he collapsed and submitted to the scalding heat.

Arceus-dammit. Each time we do something right, a million things go wrong, the Latias thought. She tore her teary eyes away from her partner, and an intense pressure built up within her mouth.

"YOU FUCKING BASTARDS!" she exclaimed before summoning a Surf attack. The mighty torrent crashed on the Arcanine, tossing them backwards and wasting them. The only one left standing was the Glaceon, who had frozen the wave heading towards him.

Not sparing a second to talk, the ice-type Eevee fired an Icy Wind at Siria. "Shit," she snapped. Although it didn't hurt as much as the Raticate's Ice Beam, the ice crystals clung to her body, restricting her ability to fly.

With no possibility of aerial combat, she engaged her opponent directly, using her incredible agility to dash and nail the Glaceon right in the face with a fist. He was prepared, though; moments after Siria's backside was entirely frozen. The Glaceon then aimed a kick at her ice-ridden hide, shattering the frozen water and making his victim howl in pain. After completing his attack, he stooped and looked her in the eyes.

"You have no idea about what you're getting into, do you?"

"Fuck off" was the only thing she managed to utter before he savagely kicked her in the gut, knocking the breath out of her. She was certain that something inside her broke. When Siria looked up, she saw him form an icicle spear, aiming it straight at her head.

"It's been nice knowing you, but now our relationship must come to an end," he sighed mockingly, walking closer and closer towards the defenseless girl.

Closing her eyes and waiting for her fate, Siria recalled her memories for one last time. The first time she learned to sense emotions. When her father tearfully proclaimed her mother was dead. The silent nod of the recruitment officer as she signed the form. The hell of basic training. Meeting Shadrach. Seeing her brother decapitate another soldier. Joining Special Operations. Working up the ranks. And, finally, coming here….

As she gritted her teeth, she heard the spear whistle as it flew towards her. The second it took to reach her seemed like an eternity. Shouldn't she be dead by now? As she peeked, the ice lay shattered on the ground before her instead of lodged in her brain. The heavily burned Umbreon was in front of her, panting heavily from the exertion of his Detect.

"Sh-Shadrach?"

"You won't get away with killing my friend," the defiant Umbreon told the Glaceon.

"Oh, really? What are you going to do? Protect until you run out of energy? You might as well line up behind her. I'd only need one strike to kill instead of two then."

As the Glaceon readied an Ice Beam, he failed to notice Shadrach shaking in utmost anger. "Don't…UNDERESTIMATE ME!" he roared, his whole body glowing in some strange energy.

Siria hardly saw what happened next, but she certainly understood. One moment the Umbreon was crudely postured in front the Glaceon, and in the next Shadrach had tackled with such fury that his enemy flew a good twenty feet before slamming against a wall, appearing as if he had every bone in his body broken.

"Last Resort," she whispered gently.

Shadrach looked at her, grinning. "Damn…straight…" He collapsed, absolutely drained from the single attack.

As she was running to attend to her friend, a sparkle in the sky caught her eye. Not even bothering to look, she loosed a Dragon Pulse at the object, hoping to deter whatever it was from the area. No hope, though. The body simply moved out of the way, spiraling downwards at an incredible speed until reaching the scene. The blue and white dragon then floated down, combat boots touching the icy ground.

"Gee, sis, I thought they told you to identify before shooting in boot camp." He grinned.

"Hush, Sirius, I need to attend to Shadrach," she retorted before applying Wishes to the Umbreon.

The Latios put on a face of mock injury. "Why, it's been a month since I saw you, Siria, and that's the first thing you say? I'm deeply insulted."

"Just help me fix his wounds!" the frustrated Latias responded.

"Sure, let me see…oh damn, that's pretty bad. Looks like a heavy burn, drained HP, and zero PP to boot. Use these."

Siria found herself grasping several Potions, a Burn Heal, and a case of Leppa berries. Well, at least her excuse-for-a-field-medic brother was worth something, she sighed.

"These will help for now, but we need to get him back to the field hospital right away for more treatment. He certainly looks like there's something broken in there," he continued. Rounding on his sister, he asked, "Now what exactly happened? Or is that classified?"

"Classified."

"Oh, come on. Couldn't you at least tell your brother? After all, I did help your boyfriend," Sirius snarked.

SLAP.

The Latios rubbed his cheek while Siria fumed. "Sorry if you're so touchy…"

"He's not my boyfriend, even though you've been saying so for months already! I don't even know where you got the silly idea!" she huffed angrily.

"Oh, I don't know. Maybe the fact that you're always, always togeth-"

"Hghh…."

The feuding dragons turned towards the source of the voice. Shadrach slowly got up, tracing his wounds with his paws.

"Hey, don't do that. You'll just infect them." Sirius batted the Umbreon's paws away.

"Who…who're you?" he asked, breathing in a ragged tone.

"Your girlfriend's brother."

SLAP.

"Argh! And I thought we were siblings!"

"Well, you can drop the girlfriend part! We're working together, nothing more."

"I like how you blush when you say that."

SLAP.

It took much restraint on Siria's part not to unleash a Dragon Pulse on her brother, even though she knew that he could deck her before she could blink. Instead, she settled on ignoring him, turning towards the Umbreon instead. "How do you feel?"

"Like crap. Better than before, though," he slurred.

"That's nice. Hopefully we could-"

Before she could finish her sentence, the Latios, listening to his radio, cleared his throat.

"I just received a report that there are enemy forces converging on this area. They must have heard your little commotion. We need to get out of here. Now." His voice was devoid of the playfulness present earlier. "Siria, take his right side. I'll take the left. Oh, also. Strip him of his clothing…"

"What?" she squeaked. The Latias moved to strike at him.

"…because we don't need enemy combatants tracking the shreds of cloth that'll tear when we fly him out."

"…oh." She blushed intensely, condemning herself for all of those devious thoughts. Sometimes she forgot that her brother had both a perverted nature and a business one. Then her anger flared when she noticed Sirius smirking, obviously listening in on her thoughts.

Both she and her brother began to take the Umbreon's clothes off. The dense jacket, the camouflaged pants, and…

"Hm? What's this?" Sirius held up a hard drive.

"Our mission material. Let me have it back," the Latias interjected. Shadrach was too dazed to talk right now.

"No. To be frank, if we are attacked on the way back, you have a far better chance of being killed than me. I'm assuming that this is important data if this mission is classified."

"What?" she snorted indignantly. "Now look, under Code 2133 of the PIA, no soldiers other than those engaged in the mission…"

The Latios already appeared as confused as the Umbreon. "Ok, ok, you win. I never knew how you managed to memorize all of that stuff." He gave her back the hard drive.

By that point, Shadrach was stripped down to his boxers.

"Those need to come off too," the blue dragon asserted.

"Wh-why are you looking at me?"

"Well, you ARE his girlfriend…."

SLAP.

"I can't believe you! Why do we need to take those off? And you think I actually saw his junk before?"

"Hey, it's medivac policy. Normally I wouldn't do this, but we need to move fast. I mean, really really fast. If those don't come off now they'll come off in the air." When he saw the Latias turn away, he said, "Fine, I'll do it. And don't look at me that way!"

She giggled. "Never knew my brother had a thing for guys…."

"Arceus, if you ever have to say that, please don't say it in front of my squadron. They'd go nuts for weeks." After packing the rest of the clothing into his bag, he looked at her sister. "Ready?"

"I noticed you never said no to my statement."

"Ugh."

The two dragons picked up Shadrach and flew out of the warzone as quickly as possible, disappearing into nothingness as they adjusted their down.

A/N: Thanks for reading this story so far. Feedback and responses would be pretty nice. Although this line may be cliched beyond all hope, this is my first fiction ever, and I'm in need of constructive criticism and help. I've also been debating if this truly qualifies as a Pokemon fanfic, seeing as the traditional form includes people from the game/manga/anime/etc, so perhaps someone could shed some light on that as well. Once again, thanks for reading!


	2. Nice Knowing You

Chapter 2: Nice Knowing You

"I need to go do our analysis and presentation!" the angry voice echoed throughout the medical ward.

"Sorry, but you're not going anywhere until you heal up. It took us forever to drag you to this forwards operation base, and I'm not going to let you mess up your body again." A patient dragon's response.

Shadrach, wrapped from the neck down with bandages, glared at the Latios to no avail. A quick survey of Sirius' eyes showed a clear "no Tauros shit" attitude.

A more feminine voice piped up. "What we saw at that laboratory is highly sensitive material! It must be presented to the generals right away!"

"Aren't you forgetting who has the data disk?" Sirius responded.

"I have it. What are you talking abou-" The Latias suddenly stopped, face flushing with anger. "No, you didn't…."

"Heck yes I did." Sirius waved the hard drive in front of her face. "You sleep like an angel, you know that?"

"That's classified material! Give it back!"

"Not until your boyfriend there takes his meds and heals up."

A resounding slap brought the attention of everybody in the room to the two psychic dragons. In the second that Sirius stood there, stunned by the blow, Siria snatched the drive out of his hands and ran.

"Haha, I told you," a smug voice came from behind him. "She's a lot more determined than you take her to be."

"I didn't expect her to be so fierce about your relationship," he responded to the bedridden Umbreon.

"I didn't know until yesterday she considered me so highly. The way I saw it, we were just assigned lots of missions together because our abilities meshed."

The humored Latios chuckled. "Well, by any rate, it's not just me who thinks that you two are set for life. I'm surprised the both of you were so oblivious to the rumors flying around." He glanced around, making sure no one was near their cordon. Then, he dropped his voice to a whisper. "Care to tell me what happened yesterday? Siria seems to be really upset."

"Mmf. Classified," Shadrach dismissed.

Sirius adopted his business-like tone again. "Now listen, I normally wouldn't care what the mission is about, or what significance it has to our military. But if it screws with my sister, it's something I gotta know about."

After several minutes of silence, the Umbreon finally made his decision. "Ok. We were assigned to assault this base at Trinity, an outpost belonging to the Tamsus Militia." Sirius silently nodded, reviling the enemy organization in his head. "Since the Special Forces are all hush hush about these missions, they didn't tell us much. All we knew was the main objective, which was to obtain vital data from the main system of the base. They gave us info, maps, locks, and all of that stuff, warning us that what we were to see in the operation was 'potentially offensive.'"

"I'm guessing the 'potentially offensive' content was what upset my sister. They always pad the words. Instead of 'extremely' it's 'potentially,' and instead of 'screw you' it's 'we'll try,'" the Latios chortled.

"By any rate," Shadrach continued, "it was easy enough to sneak into the complex. It's just that, in the main room, ahh…" He stopped for a moment to choose his words. "There were several mutated corpses, which Siria had a great aversion to."

"I would guess so. After I got my first kill, the look on her face was nothing short of terrifying. I think I spent an entire week trying to convince her I wasn't Darkrai." Looking at him again, Sirius asked, "So what exactly did you find on this mission?"

"Well, I would be telling you, but you won't let me up from this bed to do research," the Umbreon stated. "If you let me go, though…."

"Yeah, no. I'd rather probe my sister's mind and get hit a bunch of times than have you walking around looking like a zombie."

* * *

The Pokémon in the briefing room murmured in low tones as a Latias in the front set up her presentation. She did not don the tight suit from yesterday, but instead wore her traditional military fatigues.

"As you all well know, a few days ago my partner and I were assigned to stage an operation in a certain area," Siria said in a clear voice, taking extra care not to mention the exact location of the event. "We recovered a disk containing data about the enemy's work there. Although it was somewhat damaged by a surprise attack before our evacuation, it is possible to read some data from it and form a vague idea of what the Tamsus Militia was attempting to do there."

Clicking her pointer, she advanced to the next slide, which had an image of a menacing, pitch-black Lugia. "Our main interest lies in a document that details the mechanics of Shadow Pokémon." Her audience rustled in discomfort as she mentioned the name. "Unfortunately, the author never left identification, so we cannot track the researcher down and get more information."

"Those are the Pokémon that the enemy is currently employing against us, correct?" a tired, wrinkled Persian in the back asked.

"Yes, General Alem, Tamsus recently began utilizing them as organic weapons against our forces. As such, our main efforts so far have been infiltrating or outright bombing facilities that house the Shadow machines acquired from the now-defunct Cipher. However," she said, "We are still unable to find all of them."

"This article is a very interesting one because it contains information that will complement our intelligence gained from whatever small amount of Shadow Pokémon we have brought in our custody. It contains instructions for the accelerated production of Shadows but also comes with defense and purification techniques." She switched slides, showing various images of weaponry and Pokémon attacks all marked with annotations.

"This data can be used for the production of anti-Shadow weapons, anti-Shadow defenses, and possibly…." Her voice trailed off for a second as she wondered how badly the generals would dislike her last suggestion. "Purification technology."

"We have no desire to associate with the enemy. The Tamsus Militia is a violent force that must be completely and thoroughly defeated. We do not and will not fraternize with them." A young, angry Arcanine in the back stood up, flames licking the edges of his muzzle.

"Brigadier Seraphim, stand down. The war room is no place for fighting," the spectacled Persian ordered.

"Yes, sir," he responded irritably, obeying the command.

"I apologize for this 'mon's brazenness, Sergeant Siria. Please continue."

She took the hint, once again advancing to the next slide. "The purification process is not understood very well, and, although we have source plans and papers, we need much time for experimentation to perfect the process. We can initiate the first options right away. As soon as the weapon manufacturers obtain the right metals and materials, we can field several types of ammunition and armor capable of neutralizing and defending against Shadows. Our training sector can also begin teaching our troops how to focus attacks to make them effective against Shadows, as the document suggests." The Latias concluded her presentation.

Alem looked at her thoughtfully. "Well, then. I think we're going to be revising some doctrine and purchases. Thank you for the presentation, Sergeant Siria. You are dismissed."

* * *

Although personal jets were available for all Special Forces personnel, Siria found it more relaxing to fly freely instead of remain confined inside a metal tube. She took a running start on the tarmac, jumping and heading back to the forward operations base to meet the wounded Umbreon.

After four hours of battered flying through heavy wind and rain, the formerly happy Latias nearly crashed at the site, dragging herself back to the hospital and slumping in one of the chairs in Shadrach's cordon. I really should have taken the plane, she thought.

"How'd it go?" her partner asked from his bed.

"It was alright. The brass seemed very interested." Siria laid back, running her hand through her slick, wet hair.

"I can imagine a breakthrough development doing that." Shadrach sighed, staring at the whitewashed ceiling. The only interruption in the next few minutes of silence was a cough from another patient.

The Umbreon then spoke with a start. "How did we even come to this conflict in the first place…I thought the point of coming here to Halcyia was to experience peace and to escape city life."

"Does it even matter? All I know now is that we're part of the Halcyian Defense now."

As if he didn't even hear her, the Umbreon continued his rant. "It's been hell on earth here. Military life? I expected to spend my days as a diplomat, not a soldier. And what's worse, I'm serving in Special Forces, where we see the worst of the worst!" His voice had a tone of steel in it.

Siria just watched him heave and sigh multiple times. His mind waves were extremely unbalanced and hectic, and not for the first time, she noted. Vaguely, for a second, she picked up the thought _...gonna kill myself_ from the black Pokémon.

Luckily, as Siria was about to ask Shadrach if he was really going to commit suicide, her brother entered the ward, carrying several boxes of food. "Hey, looks like the lovers are—oh…" he broke off as he saw his sister's saddened face.

"What happened?" he asked as he sat down next to her.

"Nothing," she shot back bitterly.

Recognizing her tone, the Latios took a peek into her thoughts, groaning as he did so. _We'll talk later, ok?_ he messaged her telepathically.

_Fine._ Another disgruntled response.

Turning from her, Sirius addressed the both of them. "Now, I have two messages from higher ups. Do you want the good news or the bad news first?"

"The bad," Shadrach said.

"Bad news for you two, at least. I got fully transferred over to Special Forces," the Latios grinned.

"Meaning…?" the Umbreon questioned. As the two others looked at him, he added, "Sorry, I only met you yesterday."

"Before today, I acted both as a paramedic for the Air Wing Division and as the "guns" of Special Forces. Each time I was needed for a classified mission, SF would pull me out of whatever duty or medical unit I was with and tell me to go in and blow stuff up. Obviously, my CO wasn't happy with me being gone half the time, and picked some brilliant fights with a SF guy, an Arcanine or someone like that." As her brother mentioned the Pokémon, Siria thought of the Brigadier at the conference.

"I guess Special Ops finally got tired of always calling the Air Wing to borrow me. Of course, I'll miss my paramedic team, but on the upside, I get to spend more time seeing my sister and her boyfriend-"

SLAP.

"But how'd you pass the stealth and intelligence exams?" Siria exclaimed as her brother rubbed the back of his head.

"I got good at stealth by doing lots of extractions and getting one of my wings totaled," he replied, showing her several scars on his left wing. "As for intelligence, ehh…." He chuckled guiltily.

"Let me guess. Based on your physical abilities, they waived the mental test."

"Sounds about right."

Huffing, she said, "I can't believe we're letting jocks into the Special Forces."

"Say what?"

As the two began to quarrel, the Umbreon interrupted them. "Excuse me, Sirius, but what is the _good_ news?" He took care to lace the words with sarcasm.

"Seeing as how you're severely injured, and how your girlfri-" Sirius edged away from the blushing Latias. "Err, your partner are almost always assigned missions together, they decided to give both of you three more recovery days."

"Three days of doing nothing to help end this conflict," the Umbreon replied.

The Latios frowned. "In a sense, yes. However, you should look at it as an opportunity to revise and learn different approaches to missions rather than three days of uselessness."

After a moment of awkward silence, he brought up a box, sheepishly grinning. "Mess hall chow, anyone?"

* * *

"Sergeant Shadrach Chase, please sign here. We'll need this waiver before you go outside."

Luckily, by the second day, Shadrach's burns and cuts were almost completely healed. The Chansey at the front of the hospital was kind enough to allow him to walk around the base without anyone beside him, and the dragon pair had returned to their quarters.

As he stepped outside, Shadrach took in his surroundings. The sloping grey hills indicated the mountainous, defensive location of the forward operations base. Several artillery guns dotted the front of the compound, an obvious deterrent to any Tamsus forces looking to assault the fortification. A temporary airstrip behind the field hospital accommodated and serviced any transport and medical aircraft that came to the area, and the concrete bunkers shielded the base's inhabitants from sudden airstrikes. Overall, a nice little place. Nothing's changed since I got here, the Umbreon mused.

As he made his way to the cafeteria, he heard a slight whine coming from the east. The sound slowly grew louder and louder, and a dot in the cloudy sky came into view. As the Umbreon watched, the attack plane jolted and jerked in the air as it descended, as if the pilot were struggling with riding an unwieldy Dragonite. The wings were glazed over in ice and blackened by electricity, surely a result of Tamsus antiaircraft defenses. After an eternal struggle, the airframe simply gave in, slamming into the runway and skidding to the end. Its twin engines burst into bright yellow fireballs.

"Shit! Did you see that?"

"We need to get moving, quick!"

As he saw several water-types rush towards the scene, Shadrach decided he wanted to see the extent of the damage as well. As a Blastoise and a Ludicolo focused jets of water on the tail of the plane, the Umbreon felt something whiz by him.

"Arceus-damn! It's still carrying live ammo!" the Blastoise yelled when the gun port began to pop.

"Is that-is that a bomb on its undersi-" The Lucidolo partner didn't finish the sentence, the blast of the detonated ordinance knocking him off his feet. A few yards away from the water-grass type, Shadrach only had a fraction of a second to set up a Detect, protecting both himself and the Blastoise from the explosion.

"Great Arceus. Thanks for the assist. I'm Tor." The owner of the baritone voice extended a paw to shake the Umbreon's.

"We can greet each other after we see what happened," Shadrach responded, dashing to the charred aircraft.

When he reached it, his eyes widened. Inside sat a Flareon in an aviator suit, his usual red hide and yellow mane burnt black by the fireball. The fire-type wheezed, trying to breathe but absolutely failing in his efforts.

"C'mon, let's get you out of here," the Blastoise said, walking up to the craft. He gently but strongly picked up the injured Flareon, carrying him to the stretcher two Chanseys pulled up to the tarmac.

"Th…thank…thanks…" the Flareon sighed.

* * *

The fighter pilot laid on a cot, taking ragged breaths.

"Doc, how bad is it?" Tor asked.

The Growlithe looked at the charred body on the mattress. "Almost all of his skin is burned, most likely because of the explosion. Also, each one of his limbs and his spinal cord are fractured in some way. It will be nothing short of a miracle if he survives."

Shadrach gazed at the Flareon with a solemn expression. He looked so familiar….

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGHHHHH!" Both Tor and Shadrach winced at the scream when the nurse applied a salve to the burned 'mon's neck. Before they could react, the EKG machine sitting next to the bed began to beep frantically.

The doctor Growlithe yelled down the hall, "We need dopamine, quick! Now!"

"Sha…Shad…." The Flareon gasped, his frame shuddering uncontrollably.

Shadrach turned around, eyes devoid of all emotion.

"Tell…mother…I said…."

"Mother?"

"…hi."

With that line the EKG machine rang a monotonous tone. Another medic, coming with a vial and a syringe, swore heavily before stomping back.

"Shit!" the Blastoise yelled, punching the wall in anger.

The Umbreon only looked at the Flareon and the dog tag he recovered from the body.

"Kenneth Chase…huh…." Shadrach blankly stared at the ceiling he was all too familiar with, tears welling in his eyes.


	3. Moving In

Chapter 3: Moving In

Siria sat on her cot, black hair draping her shoulders as she read from a preposterously enormous textbook. A stack of similar books sat at the side of the bed, tall enough to match the one and a half feet her bed sat above the ground. I swear, there has to be something in here that I've overlooked, she thought as she flipped through the "Tactics" section.

As the frustrated Latias continued to pore through her text, another resident of the olive green dorm was equally occupied. An Ampharos, wearing a simple T-shirt and cargo pants, sat at the small table in their room. She was using an assortment of precision tools to work on what seemed to be a radio transmitter, and, as Levina used tweezers to set another resistor into a circuit board, she jumped as Siria suddenly slammed her book shut.

"Jeez, did you have to do that? I almost shorted out the board!" she huffed.

"Sorry, Levina. It's just that I don't understand this," the Latias apologized. "I've memorized every theory in this section, and there's nothing that even compares to the one Shadrach used a few days ago." Unlike with her brother, she was more lax about confidentiality with Levina simply on the basis of gender.

"You memorized the whole book, cover to cover. I'm sure you memorized all of those books, given your mental faculties. The problem is is that you're only memorizing," Levina responded, soldering another wire to the board. "What Shadrach does is improvise. He makes everything fit based on what the situation is."

"So not even reading every text published by Sun Chu can help me, huh?"

"Not if you aren't willing to analyze and apply the strategies, no. Shadrach may not have a photographic memory like you, but he can outsmart you every time because he has the ability to adjust." The Ampharos placed the circuit board in a plastic casing, finishing her new creation.

Siria looked at the device with one eye cocked. "What is that?"

"Transmitter for a bomb. I'm hoping to exact my revenge on a certain group of Air Wing jocks."

"I hope you don't mean an actual bomb."

Levina laughed, her tail light glowing merrily. "No, not one full of C4 or demo charges. A Skuntank friend of mine loaned some of that horrible liquid she always has, and I plan to make use of it."

Interested, Siria asked, "What exactly did those guys to deserve this?"

"Oh, they only tried to pick me up at breakfast, lunch, and dinner. One of them even came up to me with a terrible pick-up line. Something like-" She straightened up and intoned in the most masculine voice she could, "Hey there, are you naughty? You look like you have low Special Defense, if you know what I mean." Then she snickered. "I threw my soup at him."

After a series of giggles from both girls, Levina glanced at the clock hanged over the door. "Twenty-two hundred hours, huh? I think it's time to test this."

The Latias then peered at the remote. Lots of little buttons studded the sides, but it was impossible to miss the giant red one in the middle that screamed "press me." Levina then did exactly that.

The howls of men in the distant barracks were unmistakable.

"Oh my Arceus!"

"The pain! The agony! IT BURNS!"

"What in Arceus's name happened?"

"That smell! AAAARGH!"

After a minute, the screams were replaced with sounds of retching and puking. Levina looked immensely satisfied, a smug smile crossing her face.

Her roommate looked outside nervously, wondering if the commotion would reach their room. "Let's get to sleep before the guards come check on us."

"I agree. Night, Siria." The Ampharos could hardly contain the mirth in her voice.

"Night, Levina."

* * *

"So, Sirius, how was your last night with your buddies?" Siria sat across from him at one of the mess hall tables.

"Absolutely terrible!" he pronounced. "We were joking around and were about to go to sleep when something under my bed just exploded. Then there was some purple liquid everywhere, I mean on the walls, the windows, our clothes, everywhere! It stunk to the Distortion, too. Even after three hours of cleaning, I can't even get the stench out of my hide, much less my fatigues." The Latios sniffed his arm and gave it a look of utter disgust.

Trying to conceal her glee, his sister, with a fake expression of distress, ventured, "Who would do such a thing to you?"

Mouth half full with breakfast food, he responded, "Well, I really have no idea. It couldn't possibly have been that Ampharos girl I hit on at lunch…I don't know!" Siria's eyes widened as he said that.

"Hopefully you'll find the culprit soon." With that statement, she excused herself from the table, one hand over her mouth to conceal her nearly uncontrollable laughter.

Puzzled, the Latios tried to scan her mind. "Hey, wait…wait! You know who it is?" By that time, though, she had already walked out the door, leaving the blue dragon more confused than before.

* * *

"Sergeant Siria, here are the plans you requested for the next operation." A Gardevoir handed her a thick envelope undoubtedly filled with sensitive materials, judging from the "CLASSFIED" stamp on the seal.

"Thank you," The Latias told the courier. As soon as he left the dorm's door, she sat down on her bed and opened the package with a standard issue knife. Papers, photographs, and data chips spilled out of the waxy envelope.

"Sergeant Levina Akyra, Sergeant Shadrach Chase, and Sergeant Siria Long of the 10th Special Forces Group are to report at two hundred hours to Special Forces Headquarters, where they will receive instruction on the following materials…" she voiced out loud.

"Hmm?" The Ampharos looked over Siria's shoulder, trying to peek at the mission description.

"Looks like another diversionary mission. Apparently Tamsus forces are stationed in the woods near an abandoned munitions factory east of here, and the Air Wing wants us to put them in the open for bombing practice." Siria started scanning through the rest of the papers, trying to find anything worth noting.

"So it's a few distractions and a flank to the rear? Couldn't possibly be easier."

Still going through the photos, Siria shook her head. "This looks like a fairly large force, with about a thousand troops, mobile artillery, and even a few hundred tanks. It's been a while since I saw those from Tamsus."

Levina snorted. "Large? Tamsus has at least a hundred thousand under their wing. What makes one thousand even worth the effort?"

"Look at all of the equipment they have. Before a few months ago, the most they've mustered were some automatic rifles and their own attacks."

"I really hope you're not forgetting about the Shadow factor. Maybe the Shadow Pokémon are so useful that they don't see a need for conventional weapons anymore, and they just want to give us a false sense of control." Levina returned to her own bed, flopping onto it face down. The sound of crackling permeated the room for a few seconds as she discharged her static electricity.

"Well," the Latias sighed, "The mission isn't to be executed until a few days from now, so we have lots of prep time to ensure this all goes right, unlike last time…."

"Speaking of which, where is Shadrach? I haven't seen him in a few days," Levina asked.

"He was discharged from the hospital yesterday, so I really have no idea."

As if it were on cue, someone knocked at the door, rapping in irregular beats. When Siria opened the door, the last thing she expected was to see a wasted Umbreon at the steps.

"Shadrach? Arceus, what happened?"

"Urgh…damn it all…." He tried to makes it in the room, but only succeeded in tripping and falling with a great crash. The rings on his body pulsed a sickly purple.

Levina smirked. "He got drunk, that's what happened. Out of all the 'mon I'd expect to get hammered, Shadrach is the last."

"By any rate, we need to hide this. The last thing we need is for someone to find out that someone in Special Forces found some beer on base."

As the two girls began to drag Shadrach inside, he muttered, "Give me…a gun. Pistol will do."

"So you can kill yourself? Not today, sorry." Levina forcefully set him in his bed, taking his stained shirt off. "This smells like absolute shit. I don't even know if we can get the smell out of it."

While the Ampharos mused about how many gallons of detergent she would need to clean his clothes, Siria sat down next to him. "What happened?"

"Brother…dead." He broke down into tears.

The Latias, about to wrap an arm around him, froze. "What?"

"Called my mother. She couldn't care less," he choked. "Then I drank. Feel like dying."

Siria was about to sock him in the face for that comment when someone held her arm back. "I don't think that's a good idea. We need to get him sobered up, first of all," Levina spoke.

"Hopefully you know some good hangover cures."

The Ampharos looked tickled. "Who, me? I don't drink. Why not ask your medic brother? He's moving in tonight, anyways."

Siria squeaked, "What?" The thought of a Latios going absolutely ballistic over Shadrach's drinking hung heavily in her mind. "Who said? And when?"

"If you inspected your packet further, it mentioned a "Sirius Long" moving into our quarters. I assumed he's your brother, judging from the last name. As for the time, it's twenty hundred hours right now. He's late."

Nothing but silence came from the Latias, but her expression clearly read "Oh shit."

"Why are you looking at me that way?" the Ampharos asked.

Another individual knocked at the door. However, this time, Levina, instead of Siria, went to answer it. As she did, her jaw dropped but for a fraction of a second. The Latias admired her composure.

"Hi. Is this where Siria and Shadrach live?" a voice asked. The blue wings were unmistakable, even if the Ampharos's frame blocked most of the view.

"Yes, it is. Excuse me." Levina, breaking down into hysterics, left the room.

Sirius looked confused. "What's her problem?" Then, after stepping in, he caught a very strange, albeit familiar, scent. "Who's been drinking?"

His sister, eyes downcast, didn't answer.

"Siria, who's been…." He trailed off when he saw the Umbreon in a bed. Blue vapors began to form around the dragon's muzzle. "Oh."

"No wait, I can explain-"

"SHADRACH!"

"Hrghh…?" Although he was quite drunk, Shadrach's ears turned red with embarrassment.

"What the fuck is this? I give you meds for a day straight and then you go and fucking get slammed? You're lucky I'm not kicking your ass right now, because I sure would be if you could stand up!" The Latios began to walk to the Umbreon, fists clenched in anger.

"Sirius, wait! You don't get it!" Siria moved between him and his victim, spreading her arms.

"Get what? The fact that he got utterly smashed after we spent forever taking care of him?" he roared in anger.

"His brother just died."

"So wha-" Sirius then shut his mouth. He sat down on a fourth bed allocated to him, thinking about what she just said.

"Well, shit." The Latios put his hands behind his head, laying back. "How? Arceus help me if it was an on-base exercise."

"He wouldn't say. Maybe because he was trying to drink it away, and probably because someone stormed in here and started cussing him out," Siria accused.

"Fine, fine, I apologize. Of course, I'm still incredibly angry, but I can understand."

Siria sighed. "I hope you do. It's a far better reason than what you drink for."

"Ridiculous. What I drink for is far more important than-" He lost his grin as his sister sent him a piercing glare. Sometimes his fickle nature worked against him, especially in serious situations.

After five minutes of silence, Sirius got up and tapped Shadrach on the shoulder. "Hey, buddy, about that…." He stopped when he noticed the Umbreon was already snoring. "Morning then, I guess." The Latios shrugged.

"Let him be for the night. He's probably had a really stressful day, and he'll have an even worse one tomorrow," Siria agreed. "Oh, also, I guess since it's your first night here, proper introductions should be made. That's Shadrach, as you already know." She looked at the sleeping body with somber eyes.

"Yeah, I sure do." Sirius responded derisively.

"I'm your sister, obviously," she continued, ignoring his comment. "And the third roommate is…."

At that point the Ampharos burst back into the dorm, looking as if she had spent the last twenty minutes laughing (she did). She looked at Sirius, and broke down into laughter again.

"…Levina, an Ampharos. She's another Special Forces member who helps us out on a lot of stuff, especially electronics."

As Sirius looked her over and recalled her face, he turned a variety of shades of red. "Err…nice to meet you," he said, offering a hand.

"The same," she replied, taking the hand and giving him a toothy grin. She then wrinkled her nose, stating, "You smell really bad."

"Ah, about that. Someone had the gall to detonate a bomb of Arceus-knows-what under my bed yesterday, and I haven't been able to get the scent out of my hide."

Levina, trying her best to not break out laughing again, said, "Well, I guess karma catches up to people sometimes. And, for both your sake and for mine, please don't try to hit on me again. That was incredibly rude of you"

"You realize you're asking for something that's impossible, right?"

For half a second, the room sparkled an intense bright white as a thunder clapped throughout the whole forward operations base. Heads turned as a light powerful enough to be seen from space erupted from every crack of the building.

Even though he was naturally resistant to electricity, Sirius fell from the bed, writhing in pain on the ground due to having had an uncomfortable several thousand volts run through him. His hair was singed to a crisp, and his shirt was charred a smoky black. Levina stood proudly, the orb on her head glowing as brightly as a fire.

"A…ahh…argh…" Sirius coughed.

"I hope you know who you're dealing with," the Ampharos scolded. "Of course, if you don't, I could just amp the voltage up a few thousand more…."

"Arceus no," he gasped as Levina's body began to crackle again.

"Well, then. Bathroom is in the back, knock before entering, lights out at twenty-two hundred, and…." She smirked as she said it. "…one 'mon to one bed. Enjoy your stay with members of the 10th Special Forces Group."


	4. Briefing

Chapter 4: Briefing

"Good morning!" A piercing yet familiar voice rang in Shadrach's ears.

"Wha…what…hnng…" he replied weakly, trying to claw at the source of the annoying sound.

"I said, good morning!" Sirius, standing over Shadrach's bed, lightly batted the Umbreon's head to the side. The blow felt like someone had shot him point blank in the head as his sight exploded into a blinding white. He didn't try to get up, not desiring to feel another intense pain. "Leave me…alone…."

The Latios waggled a finger. "Sorry man, but do you remember what happened last night?"

"I…." Shadrach covered his eyes with his paws, trying to block out his vision.

"Can you recall a bit?"

"Do...what?"

"Did you go to someone and get a little drink?"

Unable to think straight, Shadrach fell for the bait. "Yeah...I did."

Sirius smiled, hardly believing the absurdity of the situation. "I knew it. No outstanding soldier like you would normally do this." He straightened himself and looked out the door of the room. "Levina, do you have the materials yet? And did Siria get the water?"

The Ampharos came inside, carrying a container of an assortment of berries. "Yeah, here's the stuff you asked for. She'll come with the water in a few minutes. One hot, one cold, right?"

He nodded, taking the container and plucking a couple of the berries out. He spat a small spurt of fire as he sampled one, coughing a bit. "These'll do," he commented, taking a small plastic bowl out from his bags. "Thanks for the assist," he smiled, winking at her.

"Listen, I'm only doing this because Shadrach took a trip down the wrong road. Don't take this as an attempt to get close to you," she scoffed before slamming the door behind her. Still smarting from the burns he got the previous night, Sirius took a pawful of the same berries, threw them in the bowl, and used a pestle to grind them up.

As he was finishing, his sister came back with two metal bottles, trying to avoid burning herself with one. "Water, brother," she yelped as she held the hot water bottle for a second too long. She looked over to Shadrach, who was quietly moaning. "Don't treat him too harshly."

With a sinister smirk, the Latios commented, "Don't worry, I won't." He then took the slush that was previously a set of berries and mixed it into the bottle. The solution he poured into a glass cup was colored a burning red. Sirius took it and stood over Shadrach.

Siria, already worried sick about Shadrach, couldn't stop herself from commenting. "That looks dangerous. Are you sure it won't hurt?"

"Who are you kidding? Of course it'll hurt. It's a hangover cure." He then tried to talk to Shadrach.

"Hey, drink this." Sirius tried to tilt the glass to the Umbreon's lips, but he refused.

"Mmff."

The medic took a serious tone. "Listen, if you won't drink this, I'll force you to. And it won't feel good, either."

After what seemed to be an eternity, he unwillingly opened his mouth and drank. Halfway into the medicine, Shadrach suddenly sat up and coughed, spitting the liquid onto his sheets. What came next surprised both Levina and Siria, who were both wincing as Sirius gave his "treatment." With bloodshot eyes wide open, the Umbreon first coughed a small fireball into the air, heating up the room by a marginal amount. Then, he burped what could be considered no less powerful than a Charizard's Flamethrower, tainting the ceiling a chalky black. Even Sirius had to stand back, shielding his face from the scorching heat. After a painfully long thirty seconds, Shadrach fell back on his pillow, smoke emerging from his mouth and nostrils.

"Now are you awake?" Sirius sweetly asked before his sister slapped him.

"The Distortion was that? You could have killed him!" Siria was absolutely furious.

"A drink," he replied, taking several less spicy berries out and draining their juice into the cold water bottle. "Now, here's the actual medicine…."

SLAP.

Siria stood posed, ready to give another hit. "So that drink wasn't medicine?"

"You can't expect me to not give him a little punishment? Right?"

"A little? Are you out of your mind?"

Ignoring her, Sirius took the bottle to Shadrach. "Hey, this isn't spicy. Promise."

"…sure…," he weakly replied, feeling as if his whole mouth was on fire. Judging from the Flamethrower he spat earlier, it might as well have been.

"I'm for real now. The sweet berries counter spiciness."

"No." And with that, the Umbreon shut his mouth tightly.

Enraged, the Latios turned Shadrach's face to him and pried his patient's jaws open. Normally, he would use psychic power to force them open, but dark-types were unfortunately impervious to such methods. Luckily, though, the Umbreon was in no shape to resist even the lightest of physical force, and Sirius succeeded in getting him to drink most of the medicine before Siria succeeded in dragging him away from Shadrach's bed.

"Enough is enough! He's already been through too much, and Arceus help you if what you made him drink isn't medicine…."

"Fine, fine, I'll stop. And for your information, the liquid was a blend of Persim, Rawst, and Sitrus. The Persim is to get him conscious quicker, the Rawst is to undo the effects of the last dose I gave him, and the Sitrus is to give him his energy back." He shrugged.

Still skeptical, his sister raised an eyebrow. "Are you sure? The last time I saw you, you couldn't even tell apart an Occa and a Yache berry for your Flygon buddy."

"That was half a year ago! And in the dark they look the same too…."

"Well, I'd be surprised if you could learn that much in six mon-" She fell silent as Shadrach got down from his bed, still holding his head in pain.

"Aargh...where am I?" Despite his slurred speech, Sirius's concoction seemed to be performing its job.

Siria spoke quickly, not wanting her brother to provide a snide response. "You came back here yesterday drunk before passing out on your bed."

"So that's it…wait, what?" He snapped to full attention before stumbling again, vision blurring once more.

Sirius's eyes narrowed. "As she said, you got utterly smashed. I don't want to know how or why, even though I probably already do. By any rate, you'd best get washed up before more 'mon start noticing. I don't know how long my rumors can hold up for. Usually, when a Special Forces member isn't there when he's asked for, stories fly pretty quick."

"Who asked for…me?"

"A messenger guy asked for you to see the on-base counselor.

"Oh." Shadrach shook his head gently, recalling the events from a few days ago. Making for the door, he silently excused himself from the talk, heading for the showers.

Looking at his slowly disappearing frame, Siria wore a pained expression. "I normally don't scan minds because it's terribly rude and unorthodox, but did you catch the same thoughts that I did?" she asked her brother.

"Hmm," he replied. Mulling his thoughts over, he finally answered, "I did, even though my senses aren't as good as yours. He's going to crack eventually. Without you, he's as good as dead."

"Yeah...you know, I never knew he thought of me that way," she said

"Me neither, but that's what happens when you drink. Free flow of thought and all. He probably never told you because he wanted to stay 'professional,' as they say."

Siria only nodded, still preoccupied with what she had sensed. "But it seems so..." She tried to pick the right word. "…innocent of him, considering everything that he's been through.

"What, get out of the war and get together? Trust me, that's the dream of a lot of older soldiers, especially vets. He's pretty young to be thinking like that, but I guess that's Special Forces for you."

"But what about you?"

"Me? There's more than enough for me just at this base? Let's start with that Ampharos babe..."

SLAP.

"I will pay you half of this month's pay if Levina actually goes out with you," Siria snorted.

"Will you? Sounds like a deal to me," Sirius replied. "I'll find a way somehow. Maybe say something like, 'Hey, how does this chloro-"

At the worst opportunity, the female in question opened the door. Sirius, thinking it was Shadrach, continued. "-form smell to you?" Then, noticing that the shadow's head didn't have two long ears, he turned slowly behind him. "H-hi Levina…."

"I heard something about chloroform and pick-up lines. Care to repeat it?" She looked intensely annoyed, a scowl crossing her face.

"Ah, no thanks. I'd rather keep it to myself," he replied, unable to keep in a lewd grin as he said it.

Levina awarded him with a slight Thunder Wave, not inflicting pain but instead relegating the Latios to squirming on the floor. "You're lucky I'm not trying to gas you, because I can imagine at least ten different ways I can faint and bind you to a table."

Suffering the effects of paralysis, Sirius could only think of a great amount of dirty replies to her assertion. His sister winced multiple times as she scanned his thoughts, trying her best not to spend the time required to visualize each one.

Looking at Siria, Levina said, "We need to finish our review of the operation. I know you and Shadrach may have opinions, but we don't have any that are written down as of yet. As for your flirt of a brother there, he won't bother trying to leak data out as long as he wants a shot at me. Right?" she asked, smirking at the floored Latios. He nodded weakly in response, mouth still paralyzed shut.

The Ampharos took several rolls of paper out of her backpack, which she set on the bed. "Since the package didn't give us a topographical map, I had to go get one myself. The base is pretty close to Trinity, the area Shadrach and you struck a few nights ago."

Taking the map, Siria looked at them more closely. "The coordinates are set in a forest almost entirely surrounded by mountains," she commented, gently tracing her finger on the landmark. "The only opening is a pair of dirt roads leading into the camp. It's probably very well protected…."

"We're Special Forces. We're supposed to get around those protections and leave the easy stuff for the rest," Levina countered. "Not to mention that between you and Shadrach, we can devise a better plan. HQ's currently thinking about blowing the entrance to hell and entrapping them."

"That won't work. Even though they're only a paramilitary force, Tamsus isn't as dumb as they seem. If someone there has a semi-functional brain, there would probably be an escape route somewhere in the mountains. Aren't there satellite images of it?"

Levina shook her head. "Cloud cover has been bad for the past week. There isn't a single clear shot of the area. We don't have access to a Skarmory, either, so no recon runs."

"Can't we wait a few more days until we get a clear picture of what's going on?" Siria objected.

"Intelligence tells that they're going to be moving out in the next two days. It's now or never, as much as I don't like it."

The Latias rubbed her forehead, groaning as she did so. "The last time we tried a bum rush like this, we had so many casualties that it almost wasn't worth the fight. And it was all intel's fault, too! I still don't trust them."

"Well, the top guns do. Since when did we troops actually get a say in this?" The Ampharos laughed hollowly. "Not to mention that this is a bombing run, not a ground assault."

"Anti-aircraft guns," Siria reminded.

"Oh. Well, the Skarmory squadron can provide cover. They'll take anything up to bullets the size of a golf ball."

"Boltbeam."

"That's Thunderbolt and Ice Beam, right? Good thing you're the tactician out of all of us..." Levina conceded.

"Anyways," the Latias continued, "I propose that we try to create a diversion in the mountains. Perhaps something that flies to distract the anti-air defenses while the bombers comes in from the side."

"Sounds good. Though, how are we going to get the flying stuff?"

"I can pull some strings to get a spare training aircraft," a voice on the floor said. He worked his jaw, which still felt numb from Levina's Thunderbolt. "That, and some spare Starly shooting dummies we worked with at the range."

Levina looked at him. "Finally, he's good for something! It would be pretty nice if you could do that for us."

"Just promise me one thing," he said.

With electricity crackling at the end of her fingertips, she replied, "Try me."

"Don't shock me anymore. It hurts and it stings."

"Don't make disgusting remarks," the Ampharos quickly retorted.

He whined, "But it's only natural! It's in my blood!"

Levina stood up, making for the entrance of the room. "You think I care? Just find a way to clean your mind, Sirius, and if you can't manage that, at least wash out your mouth, or I"ll do it for you." The last few words hung heavily in the air as she slammed the door.

* * *

"Sergeant Shadrach Chase, I presume. Glad to see that you've come. Please take a seat." the Blissey motioned, gesturing to an empty seat. The counselor wore traditional military garb, unlike many of her colleagues back in the civilian world. He took the chair silently, looking across the desk piled with paperwork and noting the placard labeled "Glenda." Luckily, he had the opportunity to wash all of his stomach's contents off of his body before the meeting. The last thing he wanted was for a staffer to know that he had gotten alcohol somehow.

Despite her desk looking as if a Lugia's Aeroblast had struck it, she began by looking Shadrach directly in the eyes. He bit on his lip, bracing for what he knew was going to come.

"So, Mr. Chase, I understand that you lost a loved one a few days ago…" Glenda started.

He tasted blood as he tried to fight back tears.

"…and we were wondering if you needed assistance of any kind. Please, let your emotions out. That's what I'm here for."

The Umbreon sat there silently crying, his paws covering his lowered head. The Blissey watched, waiting for him to make a move. After a few painful minutes, he nearly choked on his own tears as he whispered, "Why?"

Glenda's eyes narrowed, but she kept silent. Better to let him get out a complete thought before reacting, she thought.

"Why did this have to happen? Why does mother not care? Why?" His nearly undetectable voice quickly rose to a shriek. Luckily, the office was soundproofed because so many residents complained about the shell-shocked soldiers the psychology ward had to deal with.

"What do you mean by your mother not caring?" she asked concernedly.

"After-" Shadrach gasped for air. "After Ken died…I called her to…to tell her the news. I didn't feel that the standard letter for death…qualified for my brother. He was a brave man," he managed to breathe out.

" I see…." Glenda noted, writing hurriedly on a clipboard. The formerly clean paper was chock-full of scribbles and notes.

"NO, YOU DON'T!" the Umbreon screamed at the top of his lungs. Glenda looked up in alarm. "What do you 'mon understand? You just sit there on the back lines and wait for us to come back with our war stories, and pretend to care just to get your huge paycheck every month! All of the armchair generals, the President, the war advisor, even you psychologists! What the hell have you seen? You can't even begin to grasp what it's like to lose a sibling, to see his life taken from his hands!" Shadrach was shaking uncontrollably, but he couldn't care less about how he looked at this point.

"I saw him die. I saw how he died, I saw why he died. Do you honestly expect me to do that and walk away as if it was nothing? When's the last time you had to rescue your brother out of a burning wreck, only to see him die a painful death?"

"I haven't," the Blissey parried. Before she could get another sentence out, her patient quickly resumed his rant.

"Yeah, I thought so. But you know what's worst? Those civilians we're fighting for, those 'mon whose lives we protect. They don't even give a damn about us," he hissed. "They just care about how much money's to be made out of this, or how much this affects their politics. They don't realize that there are actual 'mon dying out here. They just think this is a cyclic battle that's going to happen forever, and ignoring it is the best strategy. We've been at war for years; who cares?" Breaking down, he slumped back in his chair.

Hmming, Glenda wrote some more notes before returning to Shadrach. "You said something about your mother earlier. Is your belief connected to that in any way?"

After a deafening silence, the Umbreon pulled himself back into a proper sitting position. "Yes, it is," he admitted.

"Can you explain?"

He gulped for air, trying to create a cohesive sentence. "She said…she said that…." Unable to go on, he began to cry again.

"She said what?" Glenda prodded.

Shadrach rambled. "She doesn't care. I remember her saying, 'I'm sorry,' all normally without emotion just like how people like you would say it, as if I told a stranger I lost a parent. You might say, 'Oh, that's a common response due to shock' or some other fluffy psycho crap, but I know better. She makes arms for the Halcyian defense. She gets paid for each bullet we use, for each mission we execute. She enjoys it because she gets richer every time someone dies." He abruptly stopped, nearly at a loss for words.

"Please continue."

"Then I cussed her out, and she threatened to court marshal me or something…she could probably do it, considering her connections. What happens if she does it? Does she want me to lose my pride? My dignity? What of those do we soldiers have? Or does she just want me to fall in line and be a 'good soldier'?" His manic laugh echoed emptily throughout the office.

"Really? You don't feel any pride in defending the defenseless? You don't carry yourself like a true soldier? You're in Special Forces."

"I was forced into this position. If I could be a normal infantrymon, I would. And what's the point of defending them if civilians treat us like shit?"

She countered, "Are only civilians weak? Do you only defend civilians?"

"No, but-"

Seeing a chink in his armor, she struck. "I'm sure at least one 'mon on this base is thankful for what you've done."

He dwelled on this statement, staring at the carpet. The weak. What pride could possibly come from defending the weak? Then, his thoughts cycled back to the night of the attack on Trinity. Siria sitting there in the lab, shocked by the fetuses. Siria knocked out in front of that Glaceon. Siria looking terrified as the bastard formed that spear. The energy that built up in his own, tired body as he leaped forward in front of the frightened Latias….

As he silently made the connection, Glenda's eyes lit up. He finally gets it, she thought.

Wiping away his tears, Shadrach stood up. "Thank you. I think I am a bit better now."

Smiling, she replied, "Anytime. If something else is bothering you, please don't hesitate. The door is always open."

* * *

A/N: Sorry about not updating in forever. I'm currently at dorms for a month, and the internet here is beyond terrible. I also have a ton of classes to take, meaning that I have far less time to write. Thanks to whoever's still reading this!


	5. A Flight to Catch

Chapter 5: A Flight to Catch

The three 'mon shifted uncomfortably in the cargo hold when the thrust of the jet engines forced the behemoth of a transport airplane off of the tarmac and into the air. The airframe rattled violently, reminding its occupants of how fragile it was. They hitchhiked on this trip, not afforded the private jets that had been theirs hardly several days ago because of new "budget restraints" in the upper echelons of government. Levina, Shadrach, and Siria knew better than to challenge the already generous luxuries Special Forces gave them, though. What normal soldier could get decently large quarters, constant telephone and internet access, edible meals, and at least some control over their missions?

"Did we really have to go at zero hundred hours?" Levina yawned, slouching lazily against the crooked turret of a decommissioned tank.

Siria, choosing to levitate a few inches above one of the designated seats, responded, "The meeting is at two-hundred hours. How do you expect us to make it if we didn't go then?"

"Yeah," a third voice chimed in. "This mission happens soon, and we need to get our analysis to them as soon as possible. Their department is-" The Umbreon, once sitting perfectly erect, lurched forward off of his chair as the plane took an unwelcome bank. Levina was equally shaken, falling off of the tank, but Siria, still floating above her seat, watched the two and softly chuckled at the scene.

"Makes me wish I was born a levitator sometimes," the Ampharos grumbled, hopping back onto the war machine.

Shadrach cleared his throat. "As I was saying, their planning department is very much in the wrong. Unlike us, and many other soldiers, they haven't seen combat. The obvious conclusion is that they don't know the enemy very well."

"True that," Levina responded, trying to shield her eyes from the bright fluorescent lights on the ceiling of the cargo bay. "I really need more sleep…" she murmured before dropping her head on one of the tank's smoke grenade launchers. The light clang echoed through the entire hold. Within a minute she was snoring contently, challenging even the plane in volume.

"Siria," the Umbreon called loudly over both the sound of the engines and Levina's snoring, "Can you review your plans with me? I'd like to confirm that everything's in good shape."

She looked over to Shadrach, twitching her feathery ears to try to hear him better. "What?" she shouted back.

"I said, could you review your plans?"

Taking a manila folder out of her pack, she walked over to him and sat down.

Still talking loudly, she started. "See, what we should do is make our landing zone at this location, outside the range of their antiair forces." On a map, she poked at a dot marked "LZ" nearly touching a red ring signifying the range of Tamsus's antiaircraft guns. "From there, we'll attempt to create several diversions to distract their defenses from the incoming bombers. Most likely, we'll use a training jet to drop clusters of Starly shooting targets. The enemy's radar isn't that great, and the dolls won't register as fakes until the Air Wing is within bombing range."

Shadrach only needed a second to make objections. "Can't you destroy the guns and completely eliminate the threat instead of distracting it? Or rather, couldn't you bomb both the main exit and all possible escape routes?"

"We didn't have reconnaissance images when we first started analyzing this, and the possibility of getting precise details of all routes leading out of the area is slim. We don't know where the escape paths would be, much less how long it would take the enemy to access them. As for destroying the antiaircraft defenses, well…." She smirked, shrugging as she did so. "The proclaimed Special Forces, experts at all things planned, haven't even gotten us a full roster of how many troops will carry out this mission. The thought of sabotage crossed my mind, but we may end with having too few 'mon to do the job. If we try to destroy the AA without backup, we may find ourselves with several casualties, and we might possibly even become prisoners. And you know how Tamsus treats prisoners…"

"That, I do," Shadrach replied. He rubbed at his left paw, touching where an enemy Swellow stuck several steel needles under his claws in an attempt to extract intelligence. He looked at it stoically, as if he were reimagining the pain he felt during that torture session. _It hurt_, he mused. _I'm going to pay the bastards back a hundred times for what they did for us._

The Umbreon's concentration was interrupted by someone touching his shoulder.

"Shadrach, will you be able to present tomorrow?" Siria asked.

"Sure I will. What do you mean by that?"

"Well, uh…" she began. "You just recovered from drinking a day ago, and I was wondering if you were feeling alright about still doing all of this."

He wore a tired grin on his face, as if he already explained himself a million times. "Yeah, yeah, I know. Honestly though, I'll be able to do this. I just need a bit more time to see if there are any alternatives. I'm not entirely agreeing with this diversion tactic…" he broke off, returning to reading the mission documents.

Siria looked away, staring at the giant hatch at the end of the cargo hold. As much as she would like to believe his words, the Latias knew his reassurances were all lies. Even the most novice mind readers could discern the dissonant thoughts emerging from Shadrach. Then she remembered what she had picked up from him on the night before.

_You need to confront him about this now_, her brother's voice rang in her head. _His mindset will only compromise the mission._

Although the Latias knew that she was just imagining Sirius's responses, she decided to go to war anyways. _Are you kidding? If I expose him now he won't even be combat ready! You'll just shock him into another comatose state, and he'll be utterly useless!_

_ Ah, but a useless soldier who doesn't interfere with the mission won't cause harm._

_ He's the most able 'mon we have. You honestly think the other troops will be good enough? Even though they're Special Forces, they aren't of the same caliber we are!_

_ Able? His mind is scrambled. You call that able?_

_ Shut up!_

_ That's a perfectly legitimate point, and you know it. _

_ It's not!_

_ You know you're thinking that way because you like him._

_ What! Why you-_

Before things could get physical, Siria ended the mental standoff. She had a terrific headache, eyes reeling from the effort needed to counter the more rational parts of the debate.

A snort echoed through the cargo hold, shocking her out of her reveries. Levina got up, paws and head slightly darkened by the charred frame of the tank. "Ughh…I had a weird dream. I was eating with my friends, and then I was at the shooting range, and then I saw these two dragons arguing about something…" She held her head, shaking it.

Siria knew that, on occasion, she had the tendency to broadcast what she was thinking, but she thought she took control over that impulse a long time ago. Shocked, she looked over at Shadrach. He had his face hidden in the folder, failing to conceal the slight red tinge that worked its way up his ears.

The Latias put a hand to her face. _Oh shit.  
_

_

* * *

_A/N: The chapter's shorter this time, but there are two reasons: school work/presentations/etc. and a little more drama in the next chapter. _  
_


	6. A Bone to Pick

Chapter 6: A Bone to Pick

"It is good that you could meet us here, Sergeant Levina, Sergeant Shadrach, and Sergeant Siria," General Alem rumbled, nodding at each one of them as he listed off their names. "Come, our tacticians await you in the briefing room. We mustn't waste any time."

The four of them walked down a fluorescently lit hallway. Even at this Arceus-forsaken hour, 'mon made their way through the corridor, most of them bustling. After a minute's journey over repetitive tiling, they moved into a spacious doorway. Inside, four seats at a table were empty: one at the front, and three on the side. All of the others were already occupied by soldiers.

Alem took his customary position at the front while the other three took their seats. The Latias couldn't bring herself to even glance once at Shadrach as they sat down, instead focusing on the sleek black sheen of the desk.

"Now, as some of our best minds, Sergeant Siria and Sergeant Shadrach, what are your opinions on this mission? I trust that the source files made their way to you. "

"Sir," Siria began, shoving all of her anxieties to the back of her head. "We have several objections to the tactics of this mission. Firstly, we feel that there is too much opportunity for the enemy to escape."

Before she could continue, a Xatu further down the table countered, "Explain."

Recognizing the head of intelligence, Siria elaborated. "Director Raymond, I don't believe that that bombing only the main entrance is a pragmatic way of going about doing things, sir. The costs of the attempt will most likely be greater than the benefits reaped."

Shadrach straightened up. "In short, sir, we believe that neither the department nor its tacticians have any idea of what they are talking about, and that even a private would be more qualified to plan this attack than them."

The obviously inflammatory statement caused nothing short of pandemonium as shouts of both assent and outrage rose from the once professional soldiers.

"What did he just say?"

"That arrogant bastard!"

"I think he's right."

"Wait, what?"

"Well, you're a stupid son of a bitch!"

As the argument grew louder, Siria, with mouth agape, stared at the Umbreon, completely forgetting about the events prior to the discussion. "Shadrach!" she hissed.

Levina merely smirked, unabashed by his actions. "What, you've never been with him on one of his presentations? This is his favorite thing to do," she told her, shrugging as she did so. "Gives him a chance to express his hate and all of that."

"I demand order!" the Persian roared, a very noticeable vein bulging from his forehead. As the general was a well-respected individual, the room became silent in an instant. Staring at the Umbreon, he stated, "Hopefully you have more than simply wit to offer, Sergeant Shadrach. That little act alone is punishable by court marshal."

"What, and you're going to lock your top planner in the clap?" Shadrach replied, grinning casually. As he felt Alem's glare wash over him, he quickly gave in. "Fine, fine. Listen, first of all, do you have any intelligence? And I mean that in both regards." He leered at the Xatu.

Face contorted in anger, Raymond responded, "No. For the past few days, cloud cover has obscured the area from our satellites, meaning that we couldn't get additional images. We also don't have any forces in the area, so we have no _data_ from there either." He put extra emphasis on the word as he said it.

"You couldn't afford to send a Skarmory unit?" an Arcanine asked.

"Brigadier Seraphim, I hope you realize the sheer probability of them being shot down if we had sent them over."

Ever so quick to battle, he quickly countered, "What about the losses we could receive because we didn't have proper intel? Doesn't that outweigh the tactical loss of the units?"

This comment provoked a series of murmurs from the spectators until Alem once again glared at them all. "Brigadier Seraphim, I hope you are not proposing that we should have sacrificed one for the sake of another," he intoned

"That's exactly what I'm implying, sir. If you had a choice between two units, would you pick the more useful one or the less useful one?"

"I would pick both," the Persian responded, clacking his claws on the table.

"What if you didn't have a choice?"

"That is exactly the point. I do have a choice, and I have already made it. Now," a tired Alem continued when the Arcanine began to form a response. "I've heard your tirade many, many times and as much as I do understand, the main goal is to minimize casualties, not take unnecessary risks. Argue as we will, we are not getting anywhere. The fact is clear: we do not have the proper intelligence to find every escape route our enemy has in those mountains. So let us progress with keeping that information in mind. We've wasted enough time talking about what could have been."

The room's atmosphere became icy as the general gave his rebuttal. One 'mon whispered to another, but the action caught the Arcanine's attention. "You. We will talk after this meeting."

'That's enough, Seraphim!"

"Director Raymond, what forces are we allocated?" Levina tactically changed the subject, trying to diffuse the argument.

He rustled his wings a bit, looking at a clipboard. "A lot of our Special Forces soldiers are scattered right now, but we can supply about twenty men, or two squads' worth." He passed a folder down the table to the Ampharos, who began to flip through it. She smirked for a fraction of a second as she saw a very familiar face among the troop profiles.

"Now that we have niceties out of the way," Alem stated, stroking a whisker, "We can discuss how we are going to approach this mission. If Lieutenant Sergeant Tabitha may give her presentation…"

A stout Camerupt made her way to the front. "As all of you are aware, this mission will commence at two-hundred thirty hours tomorrow, when the enemy's visibility is at its slightest. The targets will be as follow…"

Shadrach, already familiar with all of the details, whispered to Levina, "Files."

She slid the folder to him. After a moment's glance, the Umbreon hummed. "These are actually better than what I expected. We may be able to pull off a sabotage mission if everything goes right."

Levina snorted.

"If all events pre-attack go right," he elaborated.

"…and our main approach is to bomb the main entrance to entrap them. The topic is now open for discussion." Tabitha finished. "Siria, I recall you having an objection. Would you like to state it now?"

Before she could begin to talk, Shadrach, still looking to further disown the tacticians at the table, took the lead. "Yes, _we_ have an objection. You are severely underestimating Tamsus's ability. These are not just run-of-the-mill insurgents we are dealing with, but members of an organized and quite intelligent militia. You really believe that they don't have secondary escape routes through the mountains?"

Raymond replied, "We've considered that, but there are no other viable approaches."

"How about a sabotage mission? We can just destroy the main cannons right before the Air Wing comes down, meaning that we can eliminate as much of their forces as possible."

"Twenty troops is far too few for this attack."

"No it isn't," a baritone voice objected. "Raymond, can you even comprehend the skill of those involved in this attack?" He leaned over the table, taking the troop catalogue and perusing through them. "When you say that, you insult all of Special Forces, and I can't idly stand by and watch your act. These are some of the best soldiers I know. More than half of them have honors for their duty and skill, and I recognize almost all of their names. Three of them are even sitting in this room. Have you read these resumes, director?

The Xatu shifted uncomfortably. "What happened to taking risks? You seemed adamant on deploying a unit which had a perfectly good chance of being shot down."

"Need I remind you that every situation is different? Perhaps this is something that will happen, not something that has already happened. Now, let me ask you again, Raymond. Have you read these resumes?

"No, sir."

"Then maybe you should." The Arcanine tossed the folder at Raymond before returning to sit back down at his seat. Raymond wore a half-stunned, half-angered look on his face. The others looked in awe, stunned that Seraphim had the decency not to raise his voice.

Watching all of this, Alem commented, "Shadrach has brought up some good points against the current plan. Raymond, do you have any counterpoints or objections?"

"Well, sir…" Raymond was clearly green in the face, despite its pigmentation. "What I mean to say is, err…"

Shadrach smirked at him. "You have no intelligence?" Everybody but Raymond gave at least a chuckle at this statement. Even Alem looked bemused, laughing softly. The Xatu looked downwards, flustered by this turn of events.

"Shadrach," Tabitha leaned forward, breaking the levity. "This plan sounds fine, but how are the troops going to get there? What form of transport do you have in mind?"

Shadrach looked down at his notes, scratching an ear. "To be honest, only about ten will be directly involved in the sabotage. We had originally planned fifteen, but the number of troops allocated did not meet our expectations. The rest is for patrol and security, should something go wrong. As for transport, the flying-types directly involved in the mission can carry non-flying soldiers in a two-to-one ratio. The others that are to help scout the area will be dropped off by helicopter at a landing zone close to the hot zone. There, they can sneak into the area by using traditional stealth tech. Furthermore, we have a pair of Latis to rely on, so sneaking the primary forces in should be very easy," he proudly noted, looking at Siria.

Still not satisfied with his plans, she continued, "If the primary plan fails to work, what is your contingency plan?"

"I've thought of a few things, but I'd like to hear what Siria has to say," the Umbreon offered, trying to involve her in the conversation.

She straightened up at the mention of her name. "We had a second plan in store should there not be enough troops," she began. "There was an arrangement to get some training dummies to toss out of a cargo plane, which would distract enemy AA forces."

"And then while the enemy is distracted, we can get away while the Air Wing comes in and bomb them to the Distortion," Levina finished.

"What happens to the Special Forces team? Obviously if this plan is implemented, then something must have gone wrong."

"We will map out all possible escape routes found on this map. We may even be able to utilize one of the enemy's, depending on how lucky we are." Shadrach cringed as he eked out the last few words. _Lucky my ass_.

Tabitha, still challenging the proposal, continued, "What advantage does this have over our current mode of attack?"

Levina stared at her in disbelief. "I'm no master tactician, but even I can see how this works out, and frankly, that's quite something. If you destroy the entrance, Tamsus still gets to take potshots at our bombers. If you blow their only chance of fighting back to the Distortion right before we attack, we can destroy them without getting shot ourselves.

After musing over this answer, she looked satisfied. "I have no further questions." No other individual raised a hand, so Alem took the lead. "Those in favor of Shadrach's plan, say 'aye.' Sergeant Levina?"

"Aye."

"Sergeant Siria"

"Aye."

"Sergeant Shadrach?"

"Aye."

"Director Raymond?" The Persian peered at him.

"What? Oh…aye…" he muttered, glaring at Shadrach.

After the rest of the roll calls, General Alem stood up. "We have a unanimous vote in favor of implementing sabotage. This mission commences at oh-two-hundred thirty hours tomorrow. Thank you for coming to this meeting." With that, he left the room. After a brief rustling of papers and folders, everybody else soon followed, half of whom rushed to the restrooms. The other half began to gossip about the meeting, obviously astonished by the events within.

"Holy crap, did you see Seraphim? He looked like he was ready to rip Alem a new one!"

"Yeah, that was pretty intense. I liked how Alem carried himself, though."

"You were impressed with Alem? Out of all the people to say that, you'd expect it to be him. On the other hand, Seraphim? He freaking destroyed Raymond! I never knew that guy was capable of more than 'Shut up!' and 'We're going to kill those damn bastards.'"

"Colonel Roy!" A roar filled the hall.

"Sir? Brigadier, I mean, I said-ARGH!" Shadrach, about to look back, chose not to do so when he felt the air temperature rose several degrees. Siria and Levina wisely did the same, keeping their faces forward. When they were out of earshot, the Latias rounded on him.

"What was that in the conference? Do you want then them to hate us? I've never seen you act that way, so casual and nonchalant!"

"Have you ever been with me in a meeting?" Shadrach asked in an honest tone. "There are few times when I can directly communicate my contempt, so I try every time I get the chance."

"That's a bit immature of you," she replied hotly, opening the door that led outside. The three of them stepped into the cool night.

Levina laughed, breath condensing in the air. "He makes it so much more entertaining, though! I don't know why they make me go half the time, but I do. I probably would be asleep if it weren't for him."

"I don't particularly enjoy the sarcasm," Shadrach said. When Siria glared, at him, he rectified, "Ok, maybe a little bit."

She huffed, rolling her eyes when she did so. "Really, do you have any idea of what kind of image you give us? It's already a privilege that we can sit in those meetings."

"A privilege that I would love to have taken away," muttered the Ampharos.

"Besides, I find it strange that you're complaining more about my etiquette than my combat readiness."

The dragon stopped right in her tracks, a red flush working its way up her face. She tried to say something, but panic overtook her mind.

With alarm, Shadrach quickly said, "I meant it as a joke. A joke!" although it was clear from the inflection of his voice that he did not intend it to be one. _Damn, I forgot about how sensitive she was._

She stared out at the darkness blankly, still muted by embarrassment.

The Umbreon sighed. "Levina, could Siria and I have a moment together?"

She giggled. "Sure. Just make sure to clean up your love problems before this mission starts."

"Wait, love?"

"You heard me right!" And with that, she bounded off. Shadrach put a paw to his face before looking at Siria again. She remained perfectly still, not even moving an inch from her original position.

"Siria?" Shadrach touched her shoulder. She recoiled instinctively, taking a step back while turning away from him. "Siria, is there something you want to say?"

"I…" she whispered. The Umbreon leaned closer in to hear. "I'm sorry about those thoughts. It must have been awful for you…"

"No, no, it's fine," he said while waving a hand. "To be honest, I'm still upset about my brother, and even more so about my mother. It makes me wonder about my own life. As in, what's my future? To die gloriously on a mission? To get caught in the head by shrapnel? Or will I survive this nightmare, and actually retire?"

Siria sat, watching him with solemn eyes. He grinned slightly.

"Sorry if I'm boring you with all of this mundane talk. I know I'm usually silent and all…"

"No, no, it's fine!" she squeaked, taken aback by his confession. "I always thought of you as always cold and cool except in a few special cases…"

He laughed. "I try my best to project that sense. It's best to look professional when you're constantly under inspection. Whatever emotions I'm feeling won't interfere with whatever work is at hand." He relaxed, loosening his posture and slipping his paws in his pockets.

"I certainly hope so," Siria replied. "At least I know how you're feeling now. I was worried that I offended you and just made everything worse."

"That's not true at all. I'll be able to do tomorrow's mission without a problem. Come on," he said, offering her a paw. "We need to get back inside."

They were about to go back to the building when a yell caught their attention. A yellow figure was running towards them.

"Guys! We need to go! Now!" Levina shouted.

"What?" The Umbreon replied.

She waved her arms, frustrated by his slowness. "I can only hold the helo for a minute more! C'mon!"

She was about to turn back when a red blur almost knocked her over. Shadrach followed, moving much slower than the Latias. Shrugging, Levina ran beside Shadrach.

"What kind of chopper did you get?" he asked her. "Cargo?"

"No," she replied. "Transport. Carrying half of our strike team."

An increased loud whup, whup sound caught their attention. Both of them stared at each other before running even faster.

"Wait! Wait!" two consonant voices yelled in the night.


	7. Diplomacy

Chapter 7: Diplomacy

Levina held a pistol between her fingers up to her face. "Why would they even think of giving us range weapons?" she asked in disgust.

"Because," Shadrach replied, "Some of us aren't capable of using special attacks, like you are." He had a similar gun of his own, using his bed as a makeshift table while he field stripped it. As he removed the barrel from the slide of the firearm, he widened his eyes as the Ampharos aimed her gun at him. What? Oh fu-

He instinctively rolled off of the bed, taking half of the removed parts with him as the Ampharos giggled. A loud thump caused her to peer over the edge of her own mattress, looking down at the floor.

"Arceus, Levina! You're supposed to treat any weapon as loaded, even if it's not," he protested.

She rolled her eyes. "Please, as if the armory would ever release both the ammo and the gun together. Besides, would I really point a loaded weapon at you?"

"It's still improper to do such a thing." Shadrach got down on the floor, looking for the pistol parts that he scattered. "You're lucky I only began dissembly. If I lost the firing pin, I probably would have to get a whole new weapon, and explaining to that Altaria why wouldn't be fun."

"Yeah, yeah, I'm sorry," she sighed, trying to cut off his rant. "I was just testing out the sights…"

He picked the slide up off of the ground, putting the barrel back in and attaching the entire piece to the pistol in one smooth action. "Just don't do it again," Shadrach said, pulling the upper part of the gun back as if he were reloading it. He smiled as he heard the customary _chk, chk_ sound.

An awkward silence fell in the dorm. Shadrach continued inspecting his weapon while Levina watched him do so. "So…" she began, trying to establish some conversation. "What do you plan to do in the six hours before we start this thing?"

He looked up from his work. "I'm feeling a bit hungry right now, so cafeteria in a few minutes. Then all Special Forces members involved have to meet in the hangars by twenty-one-hundred hours to talk some stuff out, do weapons checks, and make sure that we're ready. Then, at zero-one-hundred hours, we deploy. I plan to think of alternate enemy responses to our primary strategy between now and when we have to go to the hangars."

"That's boring. No one to talk to?" Levina asked, grinning.

"This is a routine mission. Why?" The Umbreon obviously missed the point of her question despite the previous night's activities.

She jumped off the cot and walked to the door, letting faint rays of sunlight in. "Nothing much, just interested," she replied, still smiling. "I want to go to dinner too. Coming?"

* * *

The cafeteria line was long, even longer than Shadrach had expected. It snaked outside of the light brown building along one side. "Looks like we got here too late," he groaned, watching the thirty-plus 'mon line move as slowly as molasses.

"Yeah, at this rate, we'll need to be in the meeting by the time we get to the front," his partner also complained. Levina craned her neck, trying to count the number of heads between them and the food.

"Well," a voice behind them said. "Look who it is."

"Hello, Sirius," she answered crankily, not bothering to look back at the dragon. "If you want to, spit out your pickup line and I'll give you your shock of the day."

"No, no, not today. Maybe later?" he hinted, winking. He dodged the small bolt that emerged from Levina's body.

Shadrach, a bit annoyed, glanced over his shoulder at their antics. "Sirius, what is it that you want?"

He opened his mouth for a second, processing the variety of replies that ranged from downright earnest to obscenely ludicrous. Then he put on a mask of innocence as he gave a response that betrayed nor the former nor the latter. "I'm here for some dinner, that's all. Is that criminal?"

All three moved forward as the line shifted. "I didn't realize dinner involved hitting on a squad member, no less than one you live with." The Umbreon sighed, shaking his head. "How they can even trust you outside of a single gender barrack is beyond me…"

"I don't know why either. But hey, it works!" he said, about to give Levina another look. The crackling of her hide made him think twice about the decision, though.

"Well, all bantering aside, there's some rumors flying around about you and a certain someone else. Care to elaborate?" the Latios asked in curiosity.

Shadrach stared at him, offering a deadpan look. "I haven't the slightest idea of what you're talking about."

"Don't try to lie, Shadrach. I have my sources, especially one that is pretty close to you…"

"Wait, wha-" He began to form a reply when an obnoxious voice interrupted him.

"Hey! You want food or not? Someone else back there does." The clearly impatient Donphan cook in front of him crossed his arms.

"My apologies. I think I will have the salad," Shadrach responded, wrinkling his snout at a vat of white soup filled with a suspicious grey meat. The Ampharos and Latios behind him picked the same, and the three of them went to sit at one of the few tables that were left. At this hour, the mess hall was full of 'mon, many of which were about to go out on night patrols.

"Anyways, about those rumors." Sirius was eager to continue the discussion, not even caring for his meal. "Care to tell? I promise I won't leak it out or anything."

Shadrach stabbed a berry with a fork and waved it at him. "I told you before, I know nothing," he dismissed, looking at Levina. Even though she appeared to be fully concentrated on her salad, her ears were twitching.

"Pft, yeah right. Look, my sis may be quiet around you, but Arceus she's loud when I'm locked in a room with her." He rolled his eyes, tending to his meal.

Now it was Levina's turn to ask questions. "Locked? What do you mean by that?"

The Latios looked up at her, salad halfway in his mouth. He reluctantly set his silverware down. "Don't let your mind jump to conclusions," he said, making her blush in response. "It was target practice. Siria still doesn't have her Psychic attack down yet, so I had to help her perfect it. She said it was just for training, but she seemed like she wanted to learn it in a hurry. Anyways," he said, coaxed back into talking, "Shadrach, why don't you tell me about the rumors?"

The Umbreon, having some amount of courtesy, shook his head while he was chewing.

"C'mon. I just want to confirm what Siria said. Something about 'feelings' and 'embarrassment' and stuff, I wasn't really paying attention."

Another shake of the head.

Sirius looked up again, salad nearly half-gone during the short interchange. He grinned as he announced, "We'll try this the hard way. Shadrach, you have exactly ten seconds to tell me what happened, or I'll yell right in the middle of this mess hall that you're having an illicit sexual relationship with Siria."

This was more than enough to get a visible reaction out of him. "What?" he blurted, eyes opened wide. Levina, mouth agape, was too stunned for words.

"I said, tell me what happened last night or I'll yell out exactly what I said, except cruder."

"You can't do that!" Shadrach complained, turning red with a mixture of embarrassment and anger.

"Watch me." With that, the Latios breathed in deeply, chest puffing out. "HEY!" Naturally, everybody in the room looked towards the source of the voice, ceasing their conversation.

"Oh my- Fine, fine!" the Umbreon hissed, not willing to risk his reputation over a few secrets.

Satisfied, Sirius followed up with a gratuitous, "NEVER MIND!"

"Is it that damn Latios again?" a voice echoed.

"For Arceus' sake just shut up!" another chimed in.

"No one wants to hear your shit anyways!"

With those curses normal conversation resumed. A smug Sirius turned to look towards the other two. Levina rolled her eyes expressively while Shadrach held a paw to his face.

"Anyways, Shadrach…"

The Umbreon sighed, laying his fork down on an empty plate. "Ok, here's what happened. Siria emits a few thoughts, then got embarrassed, and then-"

"Hold on," Sirius interrupted. "Emit?"

"What she thought, I heard," Shadrach elaborated, wanting to finish his explanation as quickly as possible. "Anyways, she got embarrass-"

"Hey, hey. _What_ did she think?"

"That is something I wouldn't like to discuss," he groaned, looking for an excuse to get up and leave.

"It couldn't have been that bad." The blue dragon, belying proper etiquette, used a claw to spear a berry, much to Levina's distaste.

"You really want to know? It was an argument between you and her about how combat ready I was, and it ended with you accusing her of how much she liked me!" He blushed and looked away.

"Hardly surprising. She does that all the time. Continue."

"Wait, what?"

"I said, hardly surprising. Unless you think I'm completely oblivious to what goes on between you two…"

Shadrach scowled. "Fine. Anyways, she goes and becomes embarrassed after that. After our-" He searched for a word that wouldn't give away the fact that he was at a classified meeting. "Our flight, I made a joke about it and she just stopped talking. Not a single word, even."

Levina leaned in, suddenly making herself apparent. "And then what?" she said, entranced by the story.

He erked, wondering if he should still continue. Then he saw Sirius's smirking face and remembered the threat. "Well, I asked her about what was wrong, and then she told me about her thoughts, and I told her that I was fine. Nothing else happened. Nothing!"

Sirius and Levina eyed him silently, weighing the mettle of his testimony. Finally, the Latios spoke.

"Are you suuuuuuuure that's all?" he snarked.

"Honest! Honest! I swear!" the Umbreon exclaimed. He got more and more uncomfortable with every second that passed, shifting in his seat.

"Well," Levina spoke, standing up while picking up her tray. "I believe him, for what that's worth." She shot him a look, trying to get him to follow her lead. _I'm trying to save you dammit. _"Now c'mon, we've only got half an hour before we have to go to the hangar."

"Hangar? You two have a mission?" the dragon inquired.

"Er…what I meant is-" she stammered, noticing her oversight

"What she meant is," Shadrach explained, also getting up. "We have to check out our sidearms. Right?"

"Right, right!" She emphatically nodded.

Sirius smirked. "Sure, and there's no reason as to why my quarters will be completely empty tonight, except for me…" He too picked up his tray, following the other two as they weaved their way through the many tables of the hall. "Well, good luck with 'checking out your sidearms,' whatever the hell that's supposed to mean."

* * *

A/N: Ergh, another slice of life one with a little bit of character exposition (I think). Anyways, a question to what readers I have left (again, thanks!) from the beginning: am I going too slow? I am certainly aware that technically there has only been 5 days in their world since the start of their fic, but I've seen other stories that have spanned months within the amount of words I've used. I don't want to turn this into a 24-hour thing (like 24 heh), but I also don't want to drag the scenes out minute by minute.


	8. Operation Salac

Chapter 8: Operation Salac

Siria walked into the hangar, closing the door softly behind her. She was a good fifteen minutes early, but she needed all of that time to clear her mind and think. Going back to the dorm wasn't an option because Shadrach was there, so where else could she go?

Calling the room huge was a gross understatement. If it weren't constantly filled with aircraft, a whole obstacle course for training recruits could occupy the hangar. It was a wonder that the structure could even support the roof. The Latias peered into the depths of one side, nothing that the hangar was especially crowded tonight because of the bombing run the Air Wing was tasked with. A large grey bomber, wings nearly spanning the entire width of the hangar, dwarfed the many smaller fighter jets in front of it. A cluster of attack helicopters sat in the corner, each armed to the teeth with a variety of missiles. At least five forklifts were parked around the planes, most likely in the middle of arming them with bombs, missiles, and other ammunition.

Then, Siria turned her head and looked at the other end of the hangar. In stark contrast to the crowded side, there were two light helicopters and one large transport helicopter in the middle, powerful lights illuminating them from every angle. Several wooden boxes lay scattered around the aircraft, and a large unidentified 'mon sat atop one of them.

She squinted at him, wondering what species he was. Jet black body paint obscured much of his hide and wings, but she could catch a hint of dull red. The same paint was applied to his fanned, feathered tail in lighter density: bands of blue and yellow meshed with the same red. White, crisp hair covered the back of his head, and…

"You needn't be shy." The Pokemon, not even looking back, spoke loud enough for Siria to hear.

"What?" She was rattled out of her thoughts, not knowing that he was observing her.

"You can sit here if you'd like. Or would you prefer to stand there until we have the briefing?"

"Y-yes, alright." The Latias walked towards him, footsteps echoing in the vast hangar. She sat on a crate next to him, getting a better image of his body. His entire front was a natural dark navy blue, nearing black in hue. Three feathers, each ranging from red to white, decorated the top of his head. A small blue triangle adorned the upper portion of his beak. Aged yet piercing yellow eyes looked back into her own.

"Let me guess," he started. "You're wondering what kind of Pokémon I am."

"No- what I mean is- well, yes," she stammered. "Sorry if I'm offending you."

This provoked a laugh out of him. "No, I'm not offended. I get asked that question all the time. It's a funny thing, though, because I recognize almost all of the species here. Anyways," he continued as he rustled his wings. "I'm what they call a Wargle, but I prefer to be called Wyatt. I came from a place pretty far from here, but I don't have any intention of going back anytime soon."

"I'm Sergeant Siria. It's nice to meet you." She extended a hand forward.

He shook it. "It's nice to meet you too, Siria." As he looked her over more closely he murmured. "Hmm… you remind me of someone…"

The Latias looked into his eyes while he thought. Was it sadness that she saw? Anger? Possibly-

And in that instant Wyatt's eyes flickered again, erasing any emotion that the dragon saw. "Never mind, just some stray memories. Anyways, which sector are you working with?"

"Sabotage. I'm assuming that I'm supposed to be guarding the other 'mon, mostly because I don't know anything about bombs and such."

He cracked a weary grin. "That would be my specialty. Working with those certainly takes me back…"

Siria was about to comment on his age when she saw a Raichu walk in from another door. Then, looking behind her, she saw a small cluster of other 'mon come in from where she did. She turned her gaze away from the bird, sitting at attention as all of the others assembled around them, sitting on the crates.

"Alright!" The electric-type stood in front of them all, trying to gain their attention. "I know we're a little short on manpower, but we can get this to work." He took a neatly folded paper out of one of his pockets. "I have the group listings. As mentioned before, five teams of two will hit five antiair guns while the other ten patrol the area for enemy activity. Equipment for this operation is provided inside of the wooden boxes you are sitting on. Insertion and extraction will be executed with two light choppers and one mid-sized one," he continued while motioning behind him. "Now…"

* * *

"Go, go, go!" the pilot yelled at the six 'mon who sat on the ledges of the helicopter. It hovered over a stretch of grassland, black figure easily blending with the night sky. A range of trees barely visible in the distance reminded all passengers of the proximity of their target.

Wyatt strapped a rope to the Mightyena he was required to transport and tied it firmly around his own waist. He then jumped off of the chopper, snapping out his powerful wings. Siria soon jumped out after him, turning invisible as she too spread her wings, albeit less violently. The other occupants, Levina, a Flygon, and a Pidgeotto, barreled off in a similar manner, with the dragon grabbing the scowling Ampharos tightly. Four other figures on the chopper behind them carried out the exact same motions, quickly becoming one with the darkness of night.

As Siria flew alongside the Wargle, the flying-type looked where he assumed she was. "Ready?" Wyatt shouted into the air, aged face alight with excitement.

"I am!" the Latias yelled back in response, wind causing her down to shimmer for a fraction of a second.

"Well, then. Let's do this!"


	9. Histories

Trying something new here. I'm going to steal a page from Galalithial (:P) and do shout-outs to reviews, which I think is proper etiquette. So, thanks to Galalithial and grammaguy for not only their insightful reviews but also their additional conversations with me regarding how to write fics better! And of course, great thanks to all of the readers who've kept reading this up to this point!

Chapter 9: Histories

Siria and Wyatt landed gently on a patch of grass, looking to see if they had any unwelcome greeters.

"No one's here," the Latias whispered to him after closing her eyes briefly.

"Are you certain?"

"I did a mental scan. I can't sense any enemies within our area."

"Let's move." Still suspicious of enemy activity, he grunted, dashing to the trees and propping himself up against one. He began to undo the rope around his waist which tied his passenger to him. The Mightyena he transported fell to the ground paws-forward, gratified that the flight was over. Wyatt kneeled down to get a better look at him. "Hey, you alright?"

The dark-type quickly changed his pained face to a stoic one. "Yeah, yeah. There's no problem at all," he said right before his arms and legs gave way, letting his face hit the ground.

The Wargle glanced over at Siria. She nodded and opened one of the bags strapped to her waist, producing a pair of small white pills. As the larger 'mon retreated backwards, she tried to talk to the Mightyena. "Take these. They'll help with the air sickness." She offered the medicine to him.

What she did not expect was a fierce growl. She nearly jumped backwards in surprise at the noise. "No…no pussy pills for me. No sir." He then coughed out what she assumed to be steaming bile.

"How will you carry out the mission like this? Take this medicine."

"I'm… an Arceus-damn Special…Forces member. Me… medicine? I'd rather die."

Siria shot a look back at Wyatt. He rolled his eyes, stepping forward. "Don't worry, I've seen his type before." He stooped down to the ailing 'mon, looking him in the eyes. "Hey, soldier," he said as loudly as the environment would let him.

Another growl and a curse.

"Listen, you have two choices, boy. A, you stay here and puke your guts out and compromise the mission, not to mention becoming 'that' guy for the next few months. B, you take these pills and spare yourself the humiliation from the others. Look-" The Wargle pointed in the sky at several hardly noticeable dots. "They're almost here. Now, what will you do?"

Siria could swear the Mightyena used Extremespeed as he deftly snatched the pills from her hand, gulping them down as quickly as possible. "There…Arceus-dammit…" he panted, exhausted from the endeavor.

"Hey, what the hell is your problem?" An audible slap followed the accusation. Levina, tearing off pieces of rope, jumped away from the Flygon who had carried her. "You don't touch a girl's boobs unless you got her permission, got it?"

"What? I didn't-"

She then administered another slap, cutting his protests short. Siria winced at this one-sided exchange while the hovering Pidgeotto snickered in amusement.

Another voice reprimanded, "It would be best if you saved your energy for later. This is going to require all of our concentration." Shadrach, removing his own strap with utmost care, gave a nod of thanks to the Swellow behind him. He watched two other bodies descend to the ground, one letting out a loud thump.

"Sorry about bein' late." A Blastoise, who the Umbreon recognized as Tor, stomped over to the rest of the 'mon. A Skarmory walked behind him, sweating from the exertion she used to transport his heavy body. As soon as this occurred, the Mightyena left his crouched position to stand next to Levina while the Pidgeotto landed beside the Flygon.

Wyatt looked around, gauging all of the soldiers not for the first time. "Now that we're all organized," he started, "We'll start this operation now." His captain's bars glinted faintly on his collars as he turned around, not waiting for the chorus of "Yes, sir" behind him. Siria, turning invisible, followed him as the other 'mon dispersed, making for their targets.

"Alright. According to the GPS, our target should be twenty minutes away." She looked down at a small screen, tapping it with a finger. It, along with the rest of her gear, was engineered to tap into her psychic invisibility powers. Although the camouflage was not as effective as her down, the device only shimmered gently against the backdrop as she used it.

The Wargle nodded in response, not willing to make any more conversation that necessary. The only sounds that could be heard were the soft crunching of leaves and the light shaking of their gear bags. Both 'mon kept constant vigilance, making sure that no living thing was tracking their movements.

* * *

"You see that?" Siria, crouching behind a thicket, pointed out at a set of three large antiaircraft pieces arranged in a triangular pattern. Each carried two gatling guns, one on each side of the gunner's seat. A primitively designed metal scope allowed the gunner to attack incoming aircraft, albeit without magnification or other type of optical aid. Several large boxes of ammunition, each one holding simply a long chain of bullets linked together, were stacked on top of each other next to the guns.

In the middle of the weaponry sat a small campfire and five 'mon dressed in ragged T-shirts and camouflaged pants. They seemed to be eating, taking soup from a pot hanged over the fire while sitting on logs. Each one of them carried a rifle, most seeming to have been improvised or stolen off of dead Halcyian troops.

Wyatt hmmed at this scene, trying to think of a practical approach. "You have any silent attacks?"

"Well, I know Psychic. I don't know how well that'll go, though. Two of them are dark-types," she responded, pointing at a Tyranitar and a Skuntank. "Mist Ball and Dragon Pulse are out of the question because they'll draw too much attention, and it was impossible to learn Thunder Wave in two days. You don't have any status attacks I can amplify, either."

He frowned. "All of the attacks I know are physical, so I'm no help there."

"Well, if worst comes to worst, I do have Attract and Charm…" The Latias blushed heavily, the white portions of her face turning a deep red.

A deeper frown crossed his face at the suggestion that she use her body to distract the combatants. "No. There's no way in hell you're doing that. We're not trading your integrity for the success of this mission. I'm surprised that you even learned those moves in the first place," he responded.

Siria looked remorseful. "Sorry…"

He sighed. "I know, I know, I'm being a prude," he responded, still staring out at the fire. After a moment of hesitation, he drew a black pistol and a silencer from his holster. "I don't like resorting to weapons, but if we have to, then this would be my choice."

"Bullets against a Tyranitar? Isn't that… useless?"

"Full metal jacket rounds. They should be able to pierce the rock enough to kill him." He began to piece the two parts together, twisting the silencer onto the barrel.

A chortle from the clearing drew their attention. One of the 'mon in front of the fire, a Vaporeon, asked the Skuntank, "Well, what'd he say then?"

The dark-type leaned forward, flames illuminating his stripes. "Sorry, man, I don't swing that way!" Everybody around the fire laughed at the line.

"That can't be worse than that one time Troy pranked Del..."

"I thought you wouldn't talk about that!" a Growlithe yelped. More laughter echoed through the night.

As she watched the commotion, Siria noticed that the Tyranitar she pointed out earlier didn't partake in any of the humor around him. His first visible response was when a Rhydon nudged him. "Hey, Renato, O Fearless Leader, what's up with you? You've barely said a word tonight."

He sighed, staring into the fire. "Just thinking…"

"About what? Got some new plan cooked up?"

"Nah, I'm thinking about my wife. It's been, what, months since I saw her? Last thing I remember her saying is 'don't die!' right when I was running from some damn Halcyian squad." He chuckled, rolling his wooden rifle from hand to hand. "Don't die? Not a day goes by when I wonder when Darkrai will call for me."

The Rhydon shrugged. "Well, he comes when he comes. For now, though, just focus on living." He patted his Tyranitar friend on the back.

Siria, stomach suddenly a lot less at ease, looked over to the Wargle. He was checking the pistol for any malfunctions, twisting the silencer. He looked back up and nodded. "If you're worried, don't be. I should be able to cover two in two seconds. I had enough practice."

"It's not that," she mumbled, trying to close her ears to the conversation in front of them.

"Is there a problem?"

"It's just… the 'mon we're about to attack are just like us in every way. They have leaders, friends, family, lives… their conversation can be just as easily heard at a mess hall table back at base."

Wyatt looked downwards, moving the slide of his gun up and down. When he looked back up, his face was contorted with absolute fury. Siria could swear the blue triangle on his beak was glowing as he glared at her. "Do you really believe that for even a second? Do you have _any_ idea of what Tamsus has done? Listen to yourself. You're pitying criminals, _mass murderers. _There's no way that you haven't seen something they've done that you've hated."

His anger was surprising to her. The Latias didn't imagine that Wyatt could become so emotional in the field, so she was even more reactive in her response than usual. "What do you mean by that?" she snapped back, temporarily losing her self control.

"There's not a thing that you saw that made you want to tear them to pieces? Think; you're in Special Forces!"

It didn't take much effort to recall the mutated fetuses in the experimental facility. She recoiled instinctively at the very thought. But…

"They're not all responsible! These 'mon were probably just dragged into this whole mess!"

"Just dragged in? If anything, they probably helped!" Wyatt responded a bit too loudly for comfort.

At that moment, the Skuntank at the campfire raised his head. "Hey, did you guys hear something?" he asked the rest of the soldiers.

"Sorta. Fartbag, go check those bushes out, wouldja?"

"Yeah, Wet Willy, don't get your panties in a twist." The dark-type hoisted his rifle as he shot the Vaporeon a look of derision. "They're probably nothing there, anyways…"

Siria and Wyatt exchanged looks of horror.

"Siria, tell me that you don't believe that they won't skin us alive if they find us" the Wargle whispered. She only nodded, eyes darting between the approaching figure and the flying-type.

"I know your beliefs, and you know mine, but now we don't have a choice. As soon as I catch that Skuntank off guard, blast everybody but the Tyranitar with a Psychic attack. I'll see if I can pacify him soundlessly." He flipped the safety off of his pistol.

The Skuntank was right in front of the bushes. Luckily, he only used his rifle to poke into them rather than unloading the magazine into the two nervous bodies within. "Hello?"

Wyatt popped up out of the bushes, aiming straight down the sights of the gun. "Hi." He pulled the trigger. At the exact same time, Siria's eyes glowed as she focused on the minds of the three targets in the clearing.

What happened next would have gotten a perfect score on even the toughest of stealth mission evaluations. The Skuntank stiffened as a small bullet ripped straight through his head. When Wyatt killed, he liked his kills clean. A small, neat arc of blood with hardly any trace of brain matter followed the pistol round on its way out, leaving the body to fall face-forward into the bushes. Behind him, the Vaporeon, the Growlithe, and the Rhydon held their paws to their heads as a mind-crushing Psychic attack sent them reeling, so shocked by pain that they even forgot to scream. It only took half a second for all three of them to fall on their backs to the gravely dirt and go unconscious, or worse. Only the Tyranitar was left after the two seconds it took for the Special Forces pair to disable his team. He stood up and gripped his rifle, facial expression split between wonderment and disgust. To his credit, he emitted no whimper, no sound that betrayed a sense of terror.

The Wargle stepped over the bushes and the corpse, walking cautiously to the campfire while keeping his pistol trained on the Tyranitar. "Renato, right? If you want to live, I suggest you throw down that gun, put your hands in the air, and not say a word. Oh, and no attacking, either. I have several hidden assistants that will make your life a living hell should you even try to form a Rock Tomb," Wyatt added, choosing to add a few more to Siria's number.

Renato tossed the wooden rifle to the ground and laughed an empty laugh, not bothering to raise his hands in surrender. "Living hell? I already am in a living hell. Look-" He gestured at the Skuntank corpse on the ground. "You killed Jorge." Then he looked towards the other three. "You annihilated their minds. I hope you realize how hard it is to come by friends as good as them in this world."

"Good?" The flying-type snickered. "What the hell is wrong with your mind, thinking that they're good? Thinking that you're good? All of you are nothing more than sick criminals who've got everything coming to them!"

"You Halcyians and your assumptions. Hey, let me tell you something." Renato leaned forward, making his voice better heard. "I have a wife and two kids. I couldn't get a job because the government tore everything away from us. I had no bread, no meat, to feed my family with. What did you expect me to do? Should I starve and watch those I love do the same, or protest against our nation's government while earning money at the same time?"

Wyatt crossed his arms, obviously not impressed. "Touching story, but that doesn't change the fact that you murder innocents."

"What would you call what you had done, then?"

"Ridding the world of a threat!" he boasted.

The Tyranitar raised an eyebrow. "For your information, Jorge did not even touch a single civilian. The only time he ever fired his rifle or used an attack was in defense for whenever _your_ troops laid siege to our positions." He pointed at Wyatt in further accusation. "And, for the record, the Halycian Defense has a _brilliant_ history of killing civvies. It's how I lost my house, after all."

"Lies! I refuse to believe such treach-"

It was at this point when Siria, previously invisible, decided to interject. She shimmered into view, having stood next to the Wargle for the entire conversation. "Wyatt, as much as you would like to stand on your soapbox, we have a mission to attend to. In exactly thirty-one minutes…" She trailed off, not willing to disclose too much information to their Tyranitar prisoner of war.

Wyatt glared at the dark-type before turning back to the Latias. "Right." He tossed her his pistol, not needing to tell her what to do. Still steaming in anger, he opened his gear pack, taking out several blocks of plastic explosive. Siria, hesitantly pointing the gun at the Tyranitar, motioned at one of the logs. Renato sat down on it, staring bitterly at Wyatt as he did so.

The Latias watched the prisoner, thinking deeply about what she had just witnessed. Her mind started to escape the reality in front of her…

* * *

"Well?" A hopeful Tyranitar female looked at her husband. He shifted his gaze downwards, not willing to meet her eyes.

"I'm…I'm sorry… I could find no money, no food, no anything…"

The wife roared and sobbed in rage, causing the two Larvitar children in the small, one-room dwelling to cry as well. It previously had been an entire home, but a stray special attack incinerated all but the living room. Officials had come to the village to 'apologize' for the mess, but they had offered little help beyond that.

"What are we going to tell them tonight? The kids!" the wife hiccupped. The male Tyranitar did not reply, staring at the ground. "How can we send them to bed without a meal?" Again, he did not honor the question with a reply, knowing that even their neighbors' food supplies were dwindling. She wailed loudly, angered by their situation. The only thing that prevented her from ripping a large hole out in the wall was that it would most likely collapse whatever was left of the structure.

"Momma?" A Larvitar tugged at her worn pants, completely oblivious to her musings. "I'm hungry."

With teary eyes she looked at her child. "I am too, Steven, I am too."

The other asked, "Are we having dinner tonight?"

This sent her over the edge. She convulsed, going from slight sobbing to absolute weeping, tears wetting the dirt below her. "We…n-no…we aren't," she choked."Kids, go…go to bed."

Well, if it could be called a bed, that is. They had to sleep on rags, covered by nothing but a thin, light piece of linen. A rock served as a pillow, for, hard as it was, the Tyranitar wife felt it necessary to provide as much comfort as she possibly could.

"But momma, I'm-"

"Just sleep!" she screeched, sending a minor earthquake through the area as she punched the ground in fury. Terrified by this show of force, both of the Larvitar quickly covered themselves despite their growling stomachs. The husband stood at the end of the room, watching the entire scene unfold. He couldn't bring himself to voice his sentiments, but an overwhelming sense of disappointment and humiliation emanated from his body.

"Renato, what are we to do? How did everything come to be like this?" She turned away from her children, moving closer towards her husband.

"I…I don't know…" he murmured, answering her pleas for the first time that night. He shuffled his feet, still staying in the same position. She threw herself upon him, crying on his shoulder. He instinctively hugged her, patting her back.

"Why did everything have to go this way? At one time we had it all! But now-" She choked again, spasms going through her body. "But now…"

The male Tyranitar stared out at what little he had left. An earthen dwelling with a floor of dirt and walls of charred wood, barely saved from the fire that ravaged the rest of their house. Two kids sleeping on what even a hobo would consider too little for comfort. A wife, crying hysterically and weeping, knowing that there was no way in the world to stop the inevitable.

He reached into his desiccated wallet, drawing a worn card from one of its few pockets. A while ago, a passing group of Tamsus forces passed through their village, not attacking as a sign of good will. They had, however, asked some of the more formidable 'mon to join their cause with the offer of money and supplies. Then, he was a made man, with a good job, a nice wife, and an impressive dwelling. He had no need for either of the two, and he trusted in the Halcyian government. But then he lost his position as the head of the local judiciary, the same government declaring their village as only one in many in a "state of rebellion," even though there was no visible sign of Tamsus troops occupying the area. Many years of law studies and many more years of experience told him the excuse was nothing more than a farce, but who was he to argue? His voice was only a tiny whisper when compared to the roar of the political machine. That was fine, though, as long as he had his house and his small garden. Those could easily provide food and comfort for his family, albeit in a less lavish manner than before. Then, a few months after that, a passing convoy of Halcyian Defense troops was ambushed by Tamsus militiamen, and in the furious battle, a Halcyian Jolteon's Thunderbolt arced wide and struck his house, igniting the woodwork and setting ablaze what he had worked so hard to accomplish. And now…

The Tyranitar tried to make sense of the faded lettering on the card. It had a location on it, a local depot not far from where he lived. Of course, that was only where they recruited and screened potential soldiers; no organization would be dumb enough to reveal their main base of operation.

There was no choice, was there? What other alternative was there, save for starving or feeding on the bodies of his family? Renato decided that night to change the course of his life, even though he knew it may very well damn him in the end.

* * *

Siria sat there, mesmerized by the history that unfolded before her eyes. The pistol which she had once been pointing at Renato hanged loosely from her hands, no longer trained on the dark-type.

"It's all true, you know," the Tyranitar sitting on the other log rumbled. "As offensive as it was to go probing around in my head to figure out who I am, I can forgive that because that you actually understand who I am now, unlike that idiot over there…" He motioned towards the Wargle who was wiring a set of blocks together.

"I…what? Oh my- I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!" The Latias nearly died on the spot from embarrassment, a full blush turning her entire face red.

"There's no problem with that. Oh, also. Your gun."

"My what?" she asked, puzzled. Then, her face froze in shock as she realized what he implied.

"I know that you could kill me without the weapon, but that's besides the point. For the past ten minutes you just sat there, staring into the sky. Do you know how easy it would have been for me to kill you and overpower your friend? I don't know his species, but those wings look breakable."

She jumped up, alertness renewed by the POW's sobering statement. "You wouldn't dare!" she cried, ready to summon a Surf attack at any moment.

He smiled a sad smile, one that was very familiar to him. "Of course I wouldn't. I have nothing to gain in attacking you. I've harbored ill sentiments for Tamsus for some time, so I'm just doing the minimum they ask of me. The last thing I need is more responsibility and chores shoved upon me through promotion. Simply put, I don't care anymore. This war is useless to me. I've already secured the proper funds to begin anew so my family can eat and live in peace." The Tyranitar sighed heavily. "Though, one would think a Special Forces member would be more aware of her enemies," he commented, pointing towards her insignia.

"Hey, Siria," Wyatt called from the background, interrupting their conversation. He was zipping up his bags, apparently done rigging the antiaircraft guns with explosives. "I'm done. Let's get moving before the party starts." As he looked up, he stared for a second in disbelief. "Are you- are you talking to that filthy bastard? Why?"

"Because he isn't who you think he is!" she hissed in response. "He's not a criminal, he's not a rapist, and he's definitely not a murderer. He just got caught in a tough situation!"

"Hah! You believe that? Once you join, you're tainted! Beyond repair! You're better off dead."

The Latias stared at him, shocked by the animosity projected in his voice. She couldn't form a cogent response, so put off by the hatred she sensed.

"That may be your opinion." The two turned to the gravelly voice. "Say as you will, bird, but I am nothing of the sort you assume us to be. I know that no amount of pleading or begging will change your mind, so I won't even bother."

"Damn straight," Wyatt muttered.

"Now," he said as he got up, ignoring the Wargle's snarl. "What will you two do with me? I am a prisoner of war, after all."

Siria was confused. There was no way to carry him back to base, but killing him would be an outright atrocity.

"Let's kill him," Wyatt pronounced, taking the pistol from the Latias.

The dragon quickly snatched it back. "No, we are not killing him."

"Then what are you going to do? Lug him all the way back to our transports? Or are you going to let him walk so he can tell the rest of his Tamsus buddies about what we're doing tonight? And, pray tell, if he actually had a revelation, his buddies would just torture him and extract the information anyways."

She paused, forced to deal with this logic problem. True, in either of the proposed cases Tamsus would win out, and the Halcyian Air Wing would have trouble coming their way, but…it was just wrong! She couldn't murder a 'mon like that after learning about his past and especially after he confessed his true feelings!

However, Fate decided that it was not up to her to choose what happened to the Tyranitar. She shivered as the air temperature dropped several degrees to a more frigid level. The Latias looked around, seeking the cause of this abnormality. Deep down inside, though, she knew what it was, and shivered all the harder in horror.

Wyatt watched the Tyranitar's facial expressions. Renato was confused at first, then terrified, then…

The whistling sound of a flying object caught the attention of all three of them. A javelin molded perfectly from ice flew through the air, making a beeline for the dark-type. While Siria and Wyatt barreled to the sides, Renato, too bulky to take any evasive action, shielded himself, ready to take the blow.

Despite his immense armoring, the javelin found its way straight through the Tyranitar's right forearm and shoulder, tearing a grisly path of destruction. He roared out in pain, clutching the profusely bleeding wound. Blood sprayed onto the ice that covered the ground.

…wait, ice? Siria stared at the ground which had previously been dirt. Her worst fears confirmed, she recoiled in absolute horror.

"You two…run! Quick, just run!" Renato roared, trying to face the direction of the attack. He was rewarded with another spear to the left tendon, which drew copious amounts of blood from the area.

Siria was frozen in shock, though, and the Wargle, never having seen anything of this sort in his long line of service, watched with fascination.

The Tyranitar, unable to stand or support himself, laid in a pool of his own half-frozen blood on the ground. "Nngh…didn't I tell you? RUN! HE'S COMING FOR US!"

"Famous last words," a cool, calculated, and, to the Latias, familiar voice said. She looked up at the pale crystalline canine dressed in arctic camouflage fatigues. His blue fur, miniature spikes of frozen water, stood perfectly on end. Rhombus-shaped ears sat atop his head, picking up the grunts of pain coming from his victim.

It was that Arceus-damn Glaceon Shadrach had once killed.

"Well, before I give my explanation, I suppose that we must remove a traitor first." He smiled a sickly grin, forming an ice dagger in his hand. "Good bye, Renato. I suspected that there was something wrong with you, and there is. That sense of helping others is not appreciated here." The Glaceon then drove the dagger with great speed into the Tyranitar's head, killing him in a single blow.

Siria watched, horrified by this brutal murder. That terror multiplied tenfold when the ice-type looked back at her, grinning like a mad'mon while withdrawing the bloody knife.

"Siria…long time no see. It's a pleasure to find you here, of all places." He licked his lips.

"But I thought Shadrach killed you!" she shrieked, involuntarily stepping backwards.

He took the invitation, compensating for her retreat by moving towards her. "Oh, that's what you'd like to assume. Yes, I laid there on the ground, both body and bone crushed after his Last Resort attack. I spent a day spread-eagled on a bed, all sorts of feeding and air tubes going in and out of me. And then-" He cackled gleefully. "There's this wonderful thing called Shadow. Have you heard of it, Siria? Have you heard of this Shadow?"

Still walking backwards, she nodded tightly.

The Glaceon unzipped a pocket, taking out a syringe and a vial. The liquid within the small glass jar was pure black, as if it absorbed all of the light around it. He stuck the syringe into the vial, withdrawing all of the fluid and brandishing it at her. "This is what keeps me alive. Shadow gives us the ability of regeneration, of new health, and of course, new power. Would you like to try some?" He leered at her, allowing a bead of black liquid to form on the tip of the needle.

Wyatt jumped over to the frightened Latias, wresting the pistol out of her hand. He fired several rounds, but the Glaceon's heightened reflexes allowed him to generate an ice wall to stop the incoming threats.

He tutted. "When will you all learn? Conventional military weapons are in the past; I could probably block a tank round with my barriers. The arms you use are vastly inferior to the powers I possess in this very body!" He snickered, giddy with power coursing through his veins. Taking the syringe, he stuck it into his right wrist and sunk the plunger. "The new age, the new paradigm, the new technology with which we'll fight all future wars with...is Shadow! The Glaceon began to convulse violently as the potion went to work.

The Wargle laughed. "Crazy bastard! Even worse than the last ones. If we can't smash his face in with guns, we'll do it with attacks! Siria, let's go! Siria?" He glanced with concern to the red dragon, who was still shivering. "Are you still angry about that Tyranitar guy?" he scowled. "It's not good to let ethics get in the way of a battle."

"No," she whispered. "I can feel it. The power. It's…" She was at a loss of words for a moment. "Tremendous…"

"Siria," Wyatt said. He lowered to eye level. "You really going to let some feelings get between you and our mission?"

"He's too powerful. We can't even do anything," Siria whimpered.

The flying-type simply stared at her. "So what? Are you really going to sit here and whine about how strong he is? I know for sure that I'm not going to go down as the first 'mon to grovel for his mercy, and I sure as hell hope that you aren't either. Remember that Mightyena? You have two choices: fight and die, or just die! So pick one!"

"Pick…one…" she repeated, words still registering in her mind.

"I know you're still upset about what I said to Renato, but there's a reason behind all of it, which I will tell you afterwards if we survive this encounter. So Siria, lend me your power, and we'll beat this overblown bastard together!" His face contorted a bit as he gave his mini-motivational speech. _Wow, that was beyond cheesy, even for a captain. At least it gives my Encourage ability some use._

She lifted up her head and looked him in the eyes. A new hope glimmered in them, replacing the doubts and fears she had earlier. "Yes. Yes, Wyatt. I'll fight with you."

Both of the flying 'mon stood up, waiting to strike at the Glaceon. He gave an audible roar as he absorbed the last of the liquid into his bloodstream. His blue fur was several shades darker, and his breathing was ragged. Despite all of this, he grinned crazily, mad with power.

So," he taunted, mockingly offering a paw. "Shall we dance?"

* * *

A slightly longer chapter than usual, but I am working on the skill of making a paragraph more than three sentences long. Thanks for reading, and don't forget to review, critique, express opinions, and all of that jazz!


	10. A Time to Live, a Time to Die

This is the first chapter that actually has action-y stuff going on in it! Thanks to grammaguy and Galalithial again for reviewing, and thanks to everybody who's reading! Also, on terms of measurement: since metric is universal, especially in the military, I'm choosing to go with that over the imperial standard, which even the U.S. military uses sparingly.

* * *

Chapter 10: A Time to Live, a Time to Die

If one were to view the scene from a bird's-eye view, it would first seem incredibly unfair. Two motivated and very well trained Special Forces 'mon glared at an ice-type of considerably lower stature than them. However, as the Glaceon was to quickly prove, looks were not everything.

"Engaging tango," Siria enunciated into a small radio. I repeat, engaging tango. Sierra One Golf requesting immediate reinforcements, over." As she put it away, she felt a sharp breeze pass her.

"Let's do this shit." As the more choleric of the two, Wyatt began the fight, throwing down his bags and taking a running start on the ground. His wings shot out from his back, fully extended for flight. As his feet left the ice below him, his feathers changed from a dark blue to a shiny grey, Steel Wing attack morphing his wings from organic features to razor-sharp metal blades. He saw the blue body coming up fast, and changed his trajectory so that one of his wings would slice through the Glaceon's neck, provided everything went right.

Unfortunately, the ice-type did not decide on waiting for the attack to hit. "You can't possibly be that dumb," he condescendingly stated, eyeing the rather simple attack. As Wyatt roared and tried to cut him, the Glaceon executed a simple jump, leaping over the metal wing that targeted him. Still in midair, he turned his head and shot a beam of ice to a patch of dirt right in the Wargle's flight path. The small campfire was smothered by the attack as a giant wall of jagged crystals shot out of the ground with the sole purpose of impaling the flying-type.

Wyatt widened his eyes, suddenly aware of this new threat. He veered to the right, feeling the cool wind of the ice as he passed it at great speed. The steel wings made short work of whatever crystals were in their way; the only thing he really had to pay attention to were the ones right in front of him… like that one! Going too fast to stop or change his course, the best he could do was turn his shoulder in an effort to blunt the damage done to him. He closed his eyes and gritted his teeth, waiting for the inevitable pain of colliding with a solid object at one hundred and sixty kilometers an hour.

The pain never came, though. The only thing that he felt on his feathers were gentle flecks of ice quickly melting into droplets of water. The surprised Wargle peeked with an eye and saw that the pillar that he was about to collide into was no longer there, shattered into billions of little shards. Looking up, he saw a red figure dart away.

As Wyatt recovered from the close encounter, Siria danced around the enemy Glaceon, surrounding him in a red-and-white blur in an attempt to disorient him. The tactic seemed to be successful, for he looked slightly confused as to where the Latias was. Utilizing her invisibility, she floated right over his head, charging a Psychic attack. However, the Glaceon, infused with Shadow power, quickly noted a disturbance above him. As Siria released the attack, a violent flurry of ice and rock blinded her for several seconds. When she wiped at her eyes, she saw that there was a crater where she attacked, but no Glaceon body.

"Looking for someone?" His face suddenly filled her vision. Moving far faster than normal due to his Ice Shard attack, he slashed downwards with a paw, about to rent her open from the chest down.

"Back off, you icy bastard!" Wyatt, using Quick Attack, flew in from the side at an equally unnatural speed and gave the Glaceon a full-body tackle, sending him sprawling into the ground before he could eviscerate the Latias. The ice-type fell from the sky ungracefully, throwing up an impressive amount of dirt with his body. As soon as the dust settled, though, he staggered back up from the small crater his fall produced. He had the same manic smile plastered on his face.

"Is that all? Come get some!" He laughed, popping his dislocated right arm back into the socket in one clean motion, not even wincing at the immense pain associated with such an action. Then, with a wave of his arm, he unleashed a blizzard of tiny crystals, each one threatening to rip a hole in the two flying 'mon. They both took evasive action, with Siria rolling right and Wyatt barreling left. Siria felt the vast speed with which the Blizzard passed, realizing that the ice moved faster than bullets did.

The Wargle, not intimidated by the attack, roared again, wings turning shiny again as he formed another Steel Wing attack. He dove downwards, pressing the limits of his abilities as he accelerated to a speed that made him nothing more than a blur to the untrained eye. The Glaceon simply smirked, not believing that his opponent was trying the same primitive attack. As he crouched to jump again, though, he suddenly noticed a strange sensation holding him in place, not letting him move even a bit.

He snarled, baring his teeth and looking for the source of his psychic binds. Siria hovered in the air above him, face scrunched up in utter concentration as she pinned the ice-type down. Then, he looked at the flying figure gaining rapid ground on his position, glinting wings aimed right at his face.

The Glaceon snickered. "You think that's enough? Think again!" Siria, still using psychic force to trap him, barely noticed that his entire body glowed a malign dark purple as he smoothly moved his head to look at her. The next thing that she felt was crushing pain coming from every nerve in her body as the ice-type cruelly reversed her attack, causing her to lose all control of her body. She screamed and plummeted to the ground, ice hardly dampening her fall.

Wyatt was too busy to notice his ally's collapse as he bellowed at the Glaceon crouched right in front of him. Convinced that his target would not move, the Wargle kept his aim true as he gave what he thought would be the deciding blow of the battle. However, the last thing he expected was for the 'mon to suddenly fall on his back to the ground and flash a maniacal grin at him. No, actually, the last thing he expected was a sharp, freezing pain in the side as the Glaceon ducked under his wing and punched him savagely in the side. Wyatt howled as his flight course shifted right into the forest. This time, though, he had no psychic friend to destroy the obstacles in front of him. After his wings sliced through a few trees, his body became intimate with bark as he collided with a rather large tree trunk, sending an audible crunch rolling through the woods. He slid downwards in a bloody heap, the last vestiges of consciousness leaving his worn, beaten body.

* * *

"Wyatt!" Siria yelled, watching his collision and subsequent collapse. Her entire body ached from the Glaceon's attack, nearly causing her to collapse in agony again. She stood up, searching for the enemy ice-type while shunting all of her pain to the back of her head. He stood at the edge of the clearing, apparently waiting for her to collect herself for another round of fighting.

He sneered, "Looks like your little friend is dead. But at least you're giving me a better fight than before. Last time you just sat there, letting me beat the shit out of you. Now, you can at least struggle for five minutes before I do the same."

Siria, choosing not to believe his words, quickly responded with a Dragon Pulse, brilliant blue beam emanating from her maw as she aimed it right at the Glaceon's feet. He jumped to the left to avoid becoming part of the crater created from the attack. The Latias, turning to track his movement, jumped upwards when he shot an Ice Beam, frigid attack hissing as it flew in the air. She felt a slight numbing pain shoot up her left wing as she floated to what she considered a safe distance from her enemy. The normally downy, triangular tip was encased in ice, causing her to realize that she had not entirely dodged the attack. She grimaced at this complication, as her wings were vital in controlling her flight.

Her contemplation was interrupted by a whooshing sound, as the Glaceon launched another Blizzard attack. Siria darted downwards clumsily, injured wing retarding her movement. She did not make a full escape from the ice crystals, which cut neat little incisions through her suit into her legs as they passed. The Latias girl returned to the ground, biting her lip in pain. _He's too strong… unless…_

She dug into one of her pockets and took out a pair of yellow, geeky-looking glasses. _Arceus, I've always hated how these look on me..._ _not to mention how much I'll be court marshaled if I break these. _Putting the star-shaped lenses on, she saw the world through a tinted red. As the tiny on-board computer started up, various graphs and numbers filled her vision for an instant before they settled to equilibrium, lenses displaying important data such as hit points, attack powers, enemy stats, and most importantly, an amplification option. Through these experimental and incredibly expensive Choice Specs she could not only keep better tabs on all aspects of her battle, but also divert additional energy to her special attacks, with the drawback of only being able to use one.

The Glaceon watched her do this, laughing hysterically. "So this is how you want to die? Looking like a complete nerd? I don't even know if I can bring myself to kill you; you look so hilarious!"

Siria shook her head, trying to remove all extraneous thoughts. She stared into her hands, focusing on creating a small fireball. Her powers did not disappoint as an orange-yellow orb began to form, growing bigger and bigger as she increased her concentration. A horizontal bar appeared on her lenses and began to fill, indicating that the attack was charged at only sixteen percent of its full power.

Recognizing this as a fire-based Hidden Power attack, the ice-type shot several beams of ice at her, trying to break her focus. She did not need to look upwards to notice their trajectory, her Choice Specs indicating exactly where they were and where they would strike, as well as less important information such as attack name, air speed, and temperature of the blasts. Deprived of her ability to dodge effectively in the air, she settled for jumping nimbly from side to side to avoid the attacks as they blazed by at great speed and froze the trees behind her. One of the beams struck the antiaircraft unit that Wyatt had rigged, and it exploded in a brilliant flash of orange and yellow. Even this did not distract Siria, though. The bar read forty-six percent as she continued to charge the ball.

The Glaceon first looked puzzled, wondering what she was doing with the attack. Then his face lit in understanding. "Oh, I get it. Those stupid-ass glasses are Choice Specs, right? Help you focus on your special stats? Well, it doesn't work if you can't get a clean shot at me!" He disappeared for a moment, image simply vanishing from the clearing.

As the charge was nearing completion, a new notification read across Siria's lenses: "INCOMING ATTACK: ICE SHARD." She blinked once in fear, remembering the last time he attempted the attack on her. Then, after a moment of contemplation, she smiled, thinking of a simple yet effective counterattack.

The ice-type appeared abruptly in front of the Latias, cackling a high-pitched laugh. "Time to die!" He then raised a paw, claws unsheathed, in a move to strike at her body again. This time, there was no Wargle to save her, so his swipe went straight through her.

Or that's what he would like to believe. In reality, the image shimmered, then disappeared. Startled mid-slash, he looked upwards, where a red-and-white body suddenly appeared. Siria hovered hardly two meters over where she'd been half a second ago, triumphant grin crossing her face. The orange ball was easily the size of her head as she roared and threw it downwards with as much force as she could possibly muster. The Glaceon, having just completed his attack, had only a millisecond to dodge as the bright fireball made direct contact with his body. A giant explosion ripped through the battlefield, melting nearly all of the ice on the ground.

Siria, panting from the exertion put into the attack, floated down back to the ground, mostly unaffected by the ferocity of the Hidden Power. As she folded her Choice Specs and looked around her, she noted that the dirt below her was charred a smoky black for at least ten feet around where she had attacked. She also found that several trees had actually caught on fire, wincing at the realization that they were perfect indicators for enemy troops as for where to attack. Then, she searched for the Glaceon's body. After straining her eyes, she saw it on the ground a decently good distance far from her. His body was completely black, roasted from the intense heat and fire of her enhanced Hidden Power. Siria noted that his chest barely rose up and down, indicating that he still had a little bit of life in him. However, now was not the time to deal with the nearly-dead Glaceon. She looked at the woods surrounding her, seeking a place where an angry bird may have crashed.

There! She ran over to where it appeared as if a wild Scyther had rampaged. A few felled trees lay upon the crushed bushes, surrounding a crumpled body. Seeing her fallen comrade, she was about to scramble over the wood when something caught her by the scruff of her neck.

"I can't believe I got caught off guard by such a simple tactic. Twisting my own trick against me…" the Glaceon growled. His hide was returning to a bluish-purple, fur regenerating by freezing the water molecules around his body. Siria turned her head to look straight into a pair of red, bloodshot eyes. "You should have killed me when you had the chance. But you aren't like that, are you, compassionate Siria?"

"How-how are you still able to move? And so far in such short time?" she shrieked. _And where was backup? I called for them so long ago!_ her mental faculties added.

He leaned his head in next to her ear, whispering, "I think you already know the answer." By that time, his entire body looked pristine and fresh, as if the entire fight had never occurred. Not a single blemish or scar remained. "One-time regeneration, unless I get another shot, that is. And considering that I'm getting a promotion after killing you, I'll probably get more Shadow." He formed an ice dagger in his paw and brought it up to the Latias' neck. "But before that…."

When she caught a wave of what he was thinking, Siria screamed louder than she ever had in her entire life.

* * *

Wyatt stirred, wondering where the hell he was. The first thing he noted was that he had a terrible headache, pounding in his head like a Machamp repeatedly punishing a punching bag. The next thing he noticed was his broken body. His wings, previously blades of steel, were thankfully not damaged in the least, but the same could not be said for the rest of him. His left arm was twisted in a direction Arceus did not intend for it to bend, and, as he tried to move his legs, he found that all nervous connection had been severed to his left foot, but luckily not to his leg. His face was a complete wreck, almost half of it obliterated by the extremely rough contact it had with the tree bark. As he looked down, he saw that his stomach was entirely black, frostbite dominating his normally dark-blue hide. Blood, the majority of it coagulated after the fifteen minutes he laid crumpled there, trickled down the side of his head, adding only droplets to the damp, soaked soil below him.

After his depressing self-inspection, the Wargle tiredly raised his head to look out at the clearing, wondering how successful Siria had been in killing the bastard who injured him so well. His self-pity quickly turned into rage as he saw the Glaceon, without a single scar or wound, holding a beat up, exhausted Latias, lean in close to whisper to her. His rage then turned into pure, unadulterated fury as the ice-type held a knife to her neck, causing her to scream out in fear.

The flying-type, however wounded and unfit he may have been, snarled and got up with the aid of a tree trunk. He staggered to the edge of the trees and cautiously watched the Glaceon. Wyatt had to call upon every last bit of self-control he had as his blood boiled, letting out a low growl as the ice-type tried to use one paw take the suit off of a struggling Siria. _Now would not be the time to jeopardize this situation. This is my one shot. My only chance to redeem myself._ The Wargle's body began to glow a dull red as he began to initiate a Brave Bird attack, channeling all of his anger into it. _I will show you that I am better than before. I will prove my worth._

The ice-type now resorted to tearing, making a large gash in the small of her back. The slash tore through both her suit and her hide, drawing blood. Flinching in response, she closed her eyes and shook her head, glittering tears dropping to the ground.

_Not yet… not yet..._ Wyatt trembled as he continued to charge, trying his best to inhibit his innate desire to simply fly out there and tear the Glaceon to pieces.

The upper part of the suit now laid on the ground in tatters. The Latias' captor looked lustfully at the white bra that separated him from Siria's chest. He moved his left paw to the hook on the back, about to unsnap it-

_Now!_ Somehow defying the many injuries that scored his body, the Wargle leaped from his hiding place, entire body glowing an intense red. He began to bear down on his target, pebbles and rocks flying up behind him as he accelerated to a speed that was previously thought impossible for his species. The Glaceon looked up from his prurient thoughts, searching for a gradually loudening whistling sound. He soon found its source: the very angry bird that was half a second away from tackling him. He could not even raise his arms in protest before Wyatt rammed him right in the stomach, lifting the Glaceon off of his feet and straight into a tree trunk. The blade he held only dragged slightly on the Latias' neck before he let go of it, causing a slight cut but nothing more. She did not take the chance to use Recover, absolutely stunned at the sudden change of events.

The collapsed ice-type coughed hard, painting the ground dark red with blood. However, the Wargle was not done punishing him. Wyatt seemed to appear out of thin air, thrusting a steel knife at his neck. "You rotten son of a bitch. You FUCKING BASTARD!" The Glaceon grinned a convoluted smile and kicked Wyatt in the side. He grimaced as the sheer cold of the attack sent pain coursing throughout his body, but he was beyond the point of return anyways. He withdrew the knife and put it back in a sheath strapped to his waist. Then, right as the ice-type lunged at him, the Wargle sidestepped the attack and wrapped his only good arm around his head, catching him in a sleeper hold. "No, just killing you isn't enough. You need to die a terrible death for everything you've done." And with that, Wyatt jumped up, spreading his wings for flight and taking the Glaceon with him. _Lanette… are you watching?_

As he gained altitude, his ice-type captive began to bite on his arm, damaging and numbing it beyond recognition. Wyatt didn't even feel that, though. Instead, he climbed even higher in the sky until he felt little droplets of water dripping from his fatigues. Then, he held his position for a minute, wings beating tiredly. _I'll repay every debt I owe. Right here, right now. _He looked at the bloody eyes of the Glaceon, finding in them nothing to like and everything to hate.

"Go to hell," the Wargle snarled. He loosened his grip on the ice-type and threw him down as hard as he could. The enemy quickly righted himself in the air, turning to face Wyatt and shooting several Ice Beams. The bird tucked his wings in, diving in pursuit of the quickly dropping Glaceon. Miraculously, none of the ice attacks hit him as he reduced the surface area of his body. Catching up to the falling body, he drew back a fist and punched him in the chest with great prejudice. He smiled as the satisfying cracking sound before the wind drew it away from the flying-type's hearing.

The dark green tips of the trees were barely visible from their height now. Wyatt's punch had pushed the Glaceon down far harder than he had expected, so he pulled all of his limbs, excluding his broken left arm, in to reduce the air resistance he encountered. By that time, the ice-type had already met the ground. The amount of dust he threw into the air before was nothing compared to the quantity he did after falling half a kilometer from the sky, sending a minor quake through the clearing. Siria sat dazed as she watched the Glaceon get his just deserts. She pulled her arms in and shivered as the wind from the collision passed her, suddenly making her aware of her lack of dress.

Wyatt was still not done, though. His body became a pure white, apparition, transforming into a form akin to that of a Moltres. The bird dived down at the decently sized depression the Glaceon left.

"AAAAAAAAAARRRRRGGGHH!"

Leading with a war cry, Wyatt, with all of his might, rammed directly into the bastard ice-type. Siria had to shield her eyes from the brilliant light exploding from the hole as the Wargle performed one of his most powerful moves, Free Fall.

After what seemed to be an eternity, the Latias removed her hands from her eyes to survey the landscape. A seemingly everlasting cloud of dust hanged over the enlarged crater that remained in the distance.

Running as fast as her feet would allow her to go, she screamed, "Wyatt! Wyatt!" Siria peered into the meter-deep depression, looking for any form of life within. Two bodies laid within. One was tinged dark blue, marked up with varying shades of red blood. She saw that the Glaceon was apparently dead, for white bones stuck straight up out of a variety of the body's joints. Another wore black feathers, with only a red color coating the previously handsome hide. The owner of the feathers coughed heavily and flipped over, exposing his face. The Latias sighed a breath of relief and tried her best to wrap her hands around his body. "Oh, Wyatt…"

He grunted in response. "S…Siria…." Blood streamed out of his beak as he tried to pronounce her name.

"Shh, Wyatt. Don't talk. You'll only hurt yourself more." She levitated shakily, carrying the Wargle out onto the ground. Her hands glowed as she began to apply Wishes to the more injured areas of his body. However, it quickly became clear that nothing short of a hospital ward would be able to give him the full medical attention that he needed. A small pool of blood began to grow under him despite the healing the Latias administered. Noticing this, she whipped out her radio and yelled, "Echo Four Tango, this is Sierra One Golf; no time for formalities! Line 1, LZ Victor! Line 2, five four six two, Sierra One Golf! Line 3, One Alpha! Line 4…."

As she rattled off her call, Wyatt glanced over at her. "Girl… you of all 'mon should know… know I don't have much time left." He chuckled softly before going into a violent coughing spell, spitting even more blood out onto the ground.

Finished with her medevac call, she forcefully pushed him down as he tried to get up. "No more talking. Help will be here soon," she assured, popping a flare and tossing it out near them. Her watch read 02:25. _Let's hope they get here before the bombers do._

He coughed again, more vital fluids coming out of his beak. "Soon…."

"Yes, soon. Now hush."

This time he chose to remain silent as the Latias worked her abilities on him. As her hands glided over a particularly gaping wound on his stomach, Siria saw his blackened, frostbitten arm rustling in the tatters of his vest. "No, stop that," she commanded, about to force it back down to his side. She stopped when she saw what he held in his hand, though.

"Siria, take this…" She felt him press a small, metal object into her hands.

The Latias looked at it more closely. It was a steel, military-grade locket the width of one of her fingers, two halves sealed together by a tiny latch. She set it on the ground beside her, promising to herself to inspect it later after she finished healing. "What is this?" she asked.

"Open it… you can see for yourself." Then he cried out in pain, noise echoing through the entire forest.

"Wyatt! Hold on for just a bit longer!" Her glowing hands moved over across his body, trying to fix any wounds that may be leaking blood out. She snarled and cursed at the incredible misfortune that her brother wasn't beside her.

He smiled sadly, tears forming in his eyes. "You, out of all of us… are the most pragmatic. You know my time here is done. No more fighting, no more killing… and I can see my dear Lanette again."

"Lanette?" Siria asked, still concentrated on her Wishes.

"Healing won… won't do me any good. I can feel the pain inside…. So quit that, and open the locket."

"No! We can still save you!"

His voice hardened as much as a dying 'mon's voice could. "Siria, please… open the locket..."

Fingers trembling, she honored his request, working the metal latch and opening it. Golden yellow eyes stared back at her as she viewed what was almost a perfect reflection of herself. The Latias in the picture had a faint smile on her face, as if she were just told a slightly humorous joke. A small pink flower was nestled behind one of her feathery ears, contrasting brightly with her jet black hair.

"Lanette was so kind… so gentle… I was a young Wargle when I asked her out for the first time." He coughed again, reminding Siria of how much effort he put into reciting his tale. "We got to know each other… became friends, then lovers… then married. I was the happiest bird in the world…. But then that all changed. Some… illness took hold of her. I was off duty, so I sat night and day... at her side… yes, watching her every minute in the hospital. I left only for food and drink, hoping that she would get better…." His chest rose up and down at a faster pace as he saw everything play out before his eyes.

"Then, one night…. I was sitting as usual, when something… Arceus knows what… shook the entire building. It must have been an… an explosion, for as soon as everything stopped shaking I heard orders being yelled in the hall. Then… someone kicked down the door to our room, and then…." Tears now flowed freely from his eyes as his body buckled. "A Fearow walked in, holding a rifle. First thing… first thing he noticed was my wife in the bed. He tried to pull her out, but I attacked. He shot me in the wing and the side, leaving me… powerless. I couldn't move; my body wouldn't listen to me. Then, he took Lanette and… and…." Wyatt bawled and hiccupped, unable to continue the story. The listening Latias needed no elaboration, though, a look of utter disgust and horror crossing her face.

"He did what that Glaceon almost did to me," she whispered. Tears began to roll down her cheeks as she realized the gravity of what he implied.

The Wargle nodded his head as best as he could, crying freely. "I couldn't do anything! I just closed my eyes… and cowered like a pansy…. From that day… I vowed to kill each one… each one of those Tamsus bastards… for what they did to my precious Lanette. And when I saw you in the hangar, all the memories… each one came back like a dagger in my heart. You looked just like her… and I promised to protect you to the end…." He chuckled, choking on his own blood and tears. "…which is now, it seems."

Crying, Siria shook her head. "Don't be foolish. A medivac will get here soon," she insisted, though, on the inside, the Latias knew that she was just lying to herself. "Just a couple more minutes." She searched for anything that registered as hope in the Wargle's face, but found only a solemn face.

The only sound that could be heard was the faint crackling of the burning antiaircraft guns. Time seemed to slow as Wyatt used whatever energy he had left to turn towards his caretaker and speak. "Siria… can you grant… a dying wish…?"

"What?" She strained her ears in order to hear his diminishing voice.

"A kiss."

Siria's face flushed when she heard this. "A kiss?" she repeated.

He sighed. "I want to feel happiness… bliss… one last time…." His coughing stopped, as there was not much more to cough up.

The first thing the Latias thought was "Pervert!" given the several times the she had been asked out on base. Then she mentally slapped herself, reminding herself of what exactly the situation was at the moment. After some hesitation, she bowed her head and leaned further inwards to the Wargle's face. Siria closed her eyes as she pecked his feathery cheek, feeling not the intimacy associated with such an action but instead a mixture of sadness and finality. Withdrawing, she felt as if her whole face were going to explode.

Wyatt smiled and hummed softly. "Siria… thank you."

Knowing that the inevitable was quickly approaching, she teared up once again. "You're welcome."

"And that necklace… keep it. A gift… from me to… you." His body began to lock up as his injuries began to overtake him. Siria nodded furiously, tears wetting the ground.

"Now… for a whole different adventure…." The bird looked at the Latias for one last time. "Good bye, Siria…."

"Good bye, Wyatt," she choked.

And with that, Captain Wyatt closed his eyes, never to open them again. Siria sat next his body, silently sobbing and clutching the locket he bestowed to her. She hardly noticed the heavy _whup, whup_ of the helicopter that flew above her, the complaint of its suspension as it hit the dirt behind her, the footsteps of the Dragonite and Meganium who piled out with a stretcher.

"You! Help him onto the bed!" the yellow dragon shouted at Siria. "We can still save him!"

She glared at him coldly, not needing to say anything for him to understand what she meant. He blinked in embarrassment. "Oh…."

The Meganium, noticing her partner's discomfort, motioned for him to follow her. The grass-type carried the stretcher to Siria and her former ally. "We still need to evacuate him," she stated. "Luke, take his upper body. I'll take the legs." He nodded silently, lifting the Wargle onto the bed.

As the Meganium rushed it back to the chopper, the Dragonite took off his vest and walked over to Siria. "Put this on. It's cold out here." As she murmured her thanks and put on the oversized fatigues, he proffered a claw. "We have exactly one minute before everything goes to hell. We need to go. Now."

She took it, getting up from the ground. Siria looked forlornly at the battleground for a moment before the other dragon tugged at her. "We need to GO!" he growled. "Enemy APCs!" Her slow, thought-filled walk then turned into a mad sprint as she followed the Dragonite and scrambled into the chopper. As they lifted off of the ground, several bright lights shone from the edge of the tree as at least three armored vehicles and several squads of Tamsus forces illuminated the clearing where the Latias had previously battled. Their attention was soon drawn towards the helicopter in the sky as it noisily began to escape the perimeter.

Siria flinched as twenty millimeter shells and electricity began to whiz by. She then recoiled as she saw a round about to collide with the frame of the olive green chopper. To her amazement, it slowed down, as if it were gliding through molasses instead of air, and merely tapped the helicopter, leaving a mild dent instead of a fiery hole. She looked to the pilot for an explanation for this phenomenon. The Alakazam had his face focused in utter concentration, using all of his power to generate the Protect shield that guarded the aircraft.

"Come get some, bitches!" The Meganium was stationed at one of the chopper's door guns, sweating while unloading what Siria assumed to be hundreds of rounds at the increasingly small figures they left behind. A continuous tinkling sound came from the many, many cartridges that the gun ejected. Looking to her right, the Latias noticed Luke leaning out of the door, shooting giant rays of light out of his mouth at the same targets. _Hyper Beam_, she subconsciously noted. She looked down at the stretcher lying on the metal floor of the helicopter as a fourth occupant, a Quilava, inspected the Wargle's body while scribbling on a clipboard. _Wyatt…_. She then unclenched her fist and looked at the locket, tears forming in her eyes.

"Alright! Hold your fire!" the Alakazam yelled. Both the Meganium and the Dragonite immediately did so, pulling all of their limbs back into the aircraft. Siria, first confused about why he would make such an abrupt order, began to hear a faint whine in the distance. Several squadrons of fighters, twenty strong in all, screamed as they flew towards their targets, leading a rather large, clumsy, and familiar-looking bomber behind them.

"Gotta love those air-dales," the Meganium said as the planes sped by above them.

"Who're you calling an air-dale?" the psychic-type in the front asked indignantly.

She grinned and replied, "No one in particular."

"You're lucky I just don't drop all of you right now. Muscles are required, intelligence not essential…" he muttered.

"What?"

As the Meganium and Alakazam bantered, Siria noticed the Dragonite attempt to start a conversation with her. "I apologize for my previous remark," he confessed. "He must have been a very good soldier."

The Latias did not make eye contact with him, turning away and looking out at the passing trees. "Yes, yes he was," she whispered, voice cracking. The other dragon wisely chose not to engage in further conversation, instead staring somberly at the Quilava working on the body. As the chopper continued its flight out of the area, the trees quickly became nothing more than a sea of green to the tired Latias. She began to slump in the seat she sat in, exhaustion overtaking her as she cried herself to sleep.

* * *

This was pretty tough for me to write, mostly in terms of rectifying the unmitigated disaster which I used to consider a fight scene in the first chapter and writing the content of the second half of this. Anyways, reading is good, reviewing is better, so please review!


	11. Airborne

In which Sirius finds a new, albeit very unorthodox, way to engage an enemy tank one on one.

Much thanks for Galalithial, grammaguy, hironada, and Infinity WEAPON for reading and reviewing, as well as the quieter of you who are just reading!

Sorry about the late update; stuff like summer projects and college apps are starting to hamper my writing, and I'm afraid that it'll only get worse as the rest of the year progresses. I'll try to update at least once a week, especially in larger chunks. So anyways, enjoy!

* * *

Chapter 11: Airborne

To say that the room was stifling would be an understatement. At least half of the apartment-sized space was devoted to a set of boxy, bulky supercomputers, lights creating a mosaic in the dim lighting. Wires from these machines laid strewn about on the ground, as if intentionally set to ensnare an unsuspecting 'mon who had mistakenly ventured into the lab. On the opposite side, many flat-screen monitors adorned the walls, each displaying data such as maps, calculations, formulas, and other information that would, at first glance, have little relation to each other. Below them, a clean glass table had several panels embedded in it, undoubtedly used to control the computers. One black leather seat was positioned directly in the center, seemingly inadequate furnishing for the number of 'mon that would be expected to operate all of the technology in the room. A shadowy individual shrouded in a white lab coat sat in the chair, watching a video on one of the many screens mounted in front of him. The images that played on the monitor showed a snarling Latias engaging in combat with a maniacal Glaceon. As he watched the girl pummel the ice-type with a Hidden Power attack, he slammed a tan fist on the table. "Dammit…" he muttered, continuing to watch the battle unfold in front of him.

"Problem, sir?" A slight, feminine figure appeared in the doorway, the only source of ventilation for the room. The light from the hall behind her obscured most of her features as she walked forward, heels clacking and nine tails trailing behind her on the uncarpeted, concrete floor. "I brought your coffee, as you requested," she continued, setting a small, steaming porcelain cup next to him.

The 'mon at the monitors growled softly at her question, as if it was an affront to his work. "Yes, there is a problem." The woman cocked her head at his announcement. "It turns out that our predictions on Shadow were far grander than what we actually developed. And for a stupid reason, indeed…." He snatched the cup and downed the hot liquid in a single gulp before glaring at a screen with a complex chemical structure on it.

"Is that the current formula for the Shadow enhancements we are producing, sir?" the Ninetales asked, trying to make sense out of the multi-hexagonal diagram. She narrowed her eyes, attempting to deduce what exactly was wrong with it.

"Yes. There is something wrong with it, but I cannot figure it out. The computers are trying, but I have little faith in them." The supercomputers made a loud humming noise after his statement, as if they were disagreeing with it.

She paused for a minute. Stroking her muzzle, she asked, "Sir, if I may suggest a solution?"

"Go ahead."

"If you alter the bond on the far right, it would no longer be an alkyne, sir…."

He sighed and chuckled, stroking one of his small, streamlined, dark blue ears. A set of rapid keystrokes executed the alteration she offered, causing the diagram to morph and shift to a similar figure. He didn't need to read the calculations provided on another screen to provide his impression. "If only it were that easy. If I do that, then the effectiveness of the Shadow would be halved, which is an intolerable result. The solution to this is most likely rebuilding the entire structure, not making tweaks here and there."

"Then, sir, what is its effectiveness under the current formula?" She took the coffee cup from his side while asking the question.

He looked at the fire-type. "Only ten percent, actually. I had anticipated maximum efficiency, but I only saw my mistakes in hindsight. Poor waste of a good candidate, too…" he trailed, watching the Glaceon hold a knife against the Latias' neck. "He had all of the requirements even after he was engaged at Trinity, and I deployed him with Shadow, hoping that we had finally perfected it. It seemed right, at first. All emotions deprived of him, increased strength, heightened senses, regeneration, the works. Though, as you can see-" Here he motioned towards the Glaceon trying to undress the girl. "We failed in removing all emotion. This is only one flaw of many, such as the fact that the execution of almost all of his attacks did not meet the power levels we had anticipated."

The Ninetales narrowed her eyes at this response, thinking of its implications. The other 'mon turned away and continued to watch the video. "So what happens to the rest of our forces in the combat zone, sir?"

"Ditch them. All Shadow-related contraband has already been destroyed, and we have no agents in the area that know of this operation, and all of the extra casualties will provide the Halcyian Defense with a sense of comfort," he replied. She gulped slightly at the thought of losing so much 'monpower so easily. "We were slightly lucky in the fact that we knew of this attack a few days prior so that we could deploy our first Shadow Pokémon, but I do believe that we could have effected a proper response even if the strike were sudden. And if you're worried about what we're losing in this," he said, as if he read her mind, "We will gain so much more when we perfect the Shadow formula. Also," he continued, turning towards her once again. "Do you know why I'm answering all of your pointed questions with classified answers?"

"I do, sir," she said. The Ninetales did not even flinch as a red laser dot worked its way up her torso to her forehead.

"As a fellow fire-type, I have little doubt that I will not be able to do much to you in combat. Your Flash Fire ability is annoying to me, as I normally cannot kill you immediately if I wish. However," the 'mon continued, "The miracle of the modern pistol can do the job just as easily for me. Your tails may keep you alive for an extraordinarily long time, but they certainly don't protect you from lead. Am I making myself clear?" His small, red eyes gleamed as he aimed the gun at her.

Again, without missing a beat, the Ninetales replied, "Yes, sir, I understand perfectly." Bowing, she turned and left the room with cup in hand. Had she not been a fire-type, she would have been immensely glad to be out of the sweltering heat of the room. Rumor had it that a few messengers had actually died due to the temperature in there.

The other 'mon sat in his chair, reviewing the video once more. He saw the Wargle tackle the fully healed Glaceon and somehow manage to trap him, despite the injection that he gave himself. He scowled at this, wondering just how so much power one 'mon could hold. _Perhaps in the most desperate of circumstances…._ As he watched that damn Halcyian Wargle perform some Body Slam-like move on his test subject, flames erupted from his back, completely incinerating the lab coat he was wearing. One of the computers in the back complained about the heat by blowing a circuit, letting sparks fly from one of the ports on its front. The Typhlosion, too preoccupied with his work, snarled in disgust and ignored the distraction, beginning to type rapidly on his keyboard. The chemical structure on the screen began to undergo a variety of permutations as the remaining supercomputers began to hum even louder, performing the many, many calculations he entered.

* * *

"Two minute warning!" a Flygon at the front of the transport plane's hold yelled over the consistent buzzing of the propellers outside. The 'mon sitting on the benches took note, the sounds of rifle bolts locking, magazines loading, and metal objects clanking each other filling the space as they checked their equipment for any last-minute flaws or problems that might complicate operations on the ground. The only one not to do this was a Latios sitting in the back, head casually laid back against his hands. Well, laid back casually until….

"Hey, Bill! Check your gear!" He turned towards the source of the voice. A Salamence next to him stared at him, obviously annoyed by his lack of seriousness. After a quick survey of the psychic dragon's face, though, the glare turned into a confused expression. "Hey, you're not Bill…."

Sirius gave her a wide grin. "No, I'm not. Bill had an 'accident,' so he's recouping back at base tonight. I'm his replacement." He motioned with air quotes, recalling the events from a few hours prior. In the middle of his thoughts, Sirius did not expect the dragon to angrily grab him by the front of his vest and shove her face into his own.

"Accident? What exactly do you mean by 'accident?' For what I know, you may have one of those 'accidents' if you give me an answer I don't like." Sirius could feel her breath as she held his face only an inch away from her own. "And you're Special Forces, ground division, too, not part of Airborne!" she noted, recognizing the stitching on the Latios' arm.

_Hm, peppermint gum and jasmine shampoo. This would be interesting and kinda hot if she wasn't two seconds away from killing me. _He winced at the sudden thought, feeling quite lucky that his sister wasn't sitting beside him. Then, another angry tug dragged Sirius out of his thoughts and back into reality. "No, no, that's not what I meant!" he exclaimed, unable to keep a straight face because of the ludicrous exaggeration of his assertion. "A few hours ago, I asked around and caught wind of this mission. It sounded interesting enough to do, pounding the sand out of enemy combatants. So one of the 'mon I asked turned out to be on this mission." The Salamence only nodded at his explanation, obviously not pacified yet. "So I asked him if he wanted to go, but he was a bit drunk, so he said no. I offered, he accepted, and now I'm here! I promised him I wouldn't die or get injured or do something that would put marks on his record," he added a bit nervously, not wanting to get into a fight in the critical moment before they jumped. Luckily for him, the dragon backed off, huffing as she sat back down.

"Problem, guys?" the Flygon in the front asked, fantail quivering in anticipation. He looked concernedly at the two, wondering if he had to break up an argument.

"No, Jumpmaster," Sirius quickly responded, giving an innocent smile. The other blue dragon snorted in disbelief. At this point, the Latios mentally told himself not to hit on Salamence who looked like her, on the off chance that he would unluckily ask her and end up having Siria spend half of her time healing the gouges on his body.

Someone tapped on his shoulder again. He turned towards the source, fully expecting a Dragon Claw in the face. However, all he saw was the same Salamence, albeit one that had lost the previous scowl on her face. "Sorry about earlier," she said, looking a bit friendlier. "It's just that we look out for each other, and Bill's had his fair share of problems." Sirius thought back to his drunkenness, wondering if it was only one of his 'problems.' "I'm Justine, by the way," she finished.

He took the extended claw warily, wondering if the dragon was trying to lure him in so that she could exact some more revenge on him. "Sirius," he responded.

Even after the exchange, though, he noticed that she was still eyeing him. When he looked at her once again, she suddenly asked, "You're a Latios, right?"

He displayed one of his triangular wings for effect. "Yeah, born and raised. What's it to you?"

"Aren't Latios supposed to be peaceful Pokémon?"

"Yes." Sirius nodded, faintly knowing what the next question would be.

"Then why did you volunteer to be here?"

He sighed, knowing that his prediction was spot-on. "Well, everybody has a different theory. My sister says that I'm a retard, which I resent," he said, shaking a fist in mock anger. "I call it a challenge, which I do feel it is, in a sick, twisted way. A psychiatrist said it was some strange disorder which I didn't have the patience to memorize. Friends usually side with me or my sister, depending on who they like more. Strangers are entitled to their own ideas because I couldn't really care less. Anyways, I'm here, and that's all that counts." Sirius shrugged.

Before she could respond, the Jumpmaster, competing against the plane's engines, loudly shouted, "Stand UP!" The sound of ten bodies getting up greeted his demand. "Sound off for equipment check!" he next ordered as the transport plane whined even louder, reminding everybody that they were nearing their destination.

"Ten OK!" Sirius responded, grateful that he knew a few 'mon who were in Airborne. If he didn't he would have been at a loss as to what to say.

"Nine OK!" A Pidgeot sitting across from him shouted.

"Eight OK!" Justine yelled.

"Seven OK!"

"Six OK!"

The responses rolled down the two lines until it reached the one in front, a Scyther who roared "ALL OK JUMPMASTER!" at the top of his lungs, gleefully watching as the Flygon's face twisted into a pained expression. Ears still ringing, the dragon looked towards the light above his left shoulder, hoping to Arceus that it would turn green. His wish would soon come true as the circular red light dimmed, a buzzing noise accompanying the green light that flickered on.

"Go, go, go!" he yelled, pointing at a door in the front. The Scyther rushed at it and dove straight out of the plane, leading the charge. "Make sure not to get yourself caught in the prop wash!" the Flygon added as another 'mon barreled past him.

Sirius watched as the number of 'mon in front of him began to dwindle. Soon, it was only the Salamence, the Pidgeot, and him in the line. "Well, see ya," the female dragon said, winking at him. Then she jumped, spreading a pair of very powerful red wings as she began her decent. _Gotta rethink that "No hitting on Salamence" rule_, he thought with a satisfied smirk.

"Troop, what are you doing? Get moving!" The yell certainly shook the Latios out of his reveries as he looked up, noticing that he was the only one left in the hold.

"Yes, sir," he responded, limply holding his hand to his forehead in a very sacrilegious manner. To increase the Jumpmaster's disdain for him, he tumbled out of the plane backwards instead of performing the traditional dive, allowing himself to plummet a good twenty meters before beginning his flight. As he looked back, he noticed at least seven other planes dropping soldiers as well. Some of them, like him, were able to simply dive and fly out, whereas others used parachutes to make their decent. He counted about a hundred bodies in the air, which seemed like a rather inadequate amount of troops to deal with what, as he had heard it, about a thousand troops plus armor and other assets.

_No use worrying about it now_. Extending his wings for full flight, Sirius rocketed towards the fiery, glowing forest below him, overtaking some of the 'mon who had jumped out of the plane before him.

* * *

Sirius, along with four other 'mon he deployed with, walked into a clearing that had once been a small road. Needless to say, the place looked like a Ho-Oh had set fire to everything after a Groudon rampaged through the area. Such is the consequence of an air raid and the subsequent dropping of, at minimum, fifty tons of high explosives.

"Arceus, this place is trashed. I'll be damned if someone actually survived," a Charizard commented, tail flame adding only a minimal amount of light to the woods already lit by the fires of roasted tanks, blackened artillery pieces, and charred Pokémon bodies. Sirius had to agree, kicking a piece of metal on the ground and whistling. He looked around at the scene; a particularly fierce-looking Staraptor was talking into a radio while a Swellow, presumably the assistant gunner, held a couple ammunition boxes for the Salamence who he now recognized as Justine.

"Keep your wits about you, Lamar. For all we know, this could be an ambush," the Staraptor, who Sirius recognized as the squadleader, admonished. He gripped his rifle tightly, as if expecting an attack from any angle at any second. Following the Staraptor's lead, the Salamence took the ammo boxes, loading one into the undercarriage of her machine gun and placing the first round of its ammunition belt into the feed tray. The audible slam of the cover and the _chk chk_ of the bolt charging a round echoed clearly through the forest.

As if to affirm the Staraptor's suspicions, a stray bullet suddenly whizzed by and hit the frame of a tank behind them, creating a _chink_ sound and throwing sparks everywhere. All five 'mon ducked at this attack, scattering to find cover behind whatever debris there were.

"Who's there?" the flying-type called, laying low in a crater, called out at the trees far from them. Hardly expecting a response, he looked at Sirius, who was crouched behind the body of a destroyed APC. "Hey, Latios there, can you check out who that is?"

This was one of the many times he hated his ineffectual psychic abilities. Time and time again, squadmates have always asked him to perform mind-reading or scanning tasks, putting stock in the fact that he was a Latios and thus genetically predisposed to having above average psychic skills. Sirius' incapacity to perform such tasks may very well have stemmed from, as Siria cruelly put it, a mental defect of some kind at birth. The only thing he could perform with full confidence was telepathic communication with his sister only within a hundred meters of her position; on the other hand, the Latias, who apparently hogged all of the psychic power, could project as well as receive thoughts to and from anybody within an astounding one kilometer radius. However, it seemed that in exchange for his inability to use his psychic skills well, he had a knack for mastering any type of attack (aside from those that were Psychic-based), whether it be physical, special, or status, that his species could learn, despite the fact that Latios are usually incapable of the first of the three types.

"No, I can't," he sighed, waiting for the inevitable curse and suggestion that he should be able to gauge an individual from at least half a kilometer away. A collective grumbling emanated from the other four hiding 'mon.

"Arceus-dammit, you're a Latios, aren't you? Shouldn't you be able to ID a 'mon from that distance?"

He grinned Mareepishly in response. "Sorry, bro. I can generate a Protect shield for you, though. Guaranteed to stop everything outside of APC rounds," Sirius offered. _At least it's not psychic-based…._

"That'll do. Want to start now?"

The Latios concentrated on the Staraptor's body, trying to envision a shield around him. Hardly a moment later, a thin blue box appeared around the bird, existing to the naked eye for only a few seconds before turning invisible. "There," Sirius said, still smiling. "Walk with confidence."

The flying-type grunted in response, obviously not partaking in the Latios' humor. "Cover me." All of the others, even the assistant gunner who only had a pistol, flipped their safeties off and trained their weapons at the target. Crouching as he did so, the Staraptor approached the edge of the trees slowly with caution, holding his rifle to his shoulder but not limiting his vision by using the scope. Surprisingly, no additional attacks came from the area. This did not mean that any of them relaxed in the slightest, though.

"Who's there?" the Staraptor repeated, looking for a hint of any sort in the trees. The soft sound of crying was the only response there was. "What the hell…." He let his gun fall to his side to hang on the sling, drawing a pistol and turning on its tactical light. A quick wave of the flashlight illuminated the body of a young Growlithe holding a bolt-action rifle. The child was sobbing, wooden, antiquated weapon pointed downwards as he wiped at his eyes.

The others hiding behind their cover recognized the gesture of the Staraptor's talon. Both of them got up and passed the short distance between the trees and what used to be the road, still wary of their surroundings. "Well, Roc?" Lamar rumbled once the rest of the squad arrived at the position. As the Charizard and the Staraptor inspected their findings, the other three stood guard, looking for any threat that might suddenly make itself apparent.

"A kid shot at us. A kid." Roc derisively snorted. "I tried to get him to talk, but I don't think he knows what happened. I don't think _anyone_ knows what happened, considering how many bombs were dropped."

The Latios turned away from his post and crouched down to the Growlithe. "Hey buddy, what's wrong?" he asked in the most soothing voice he could produce. This was obviously not the best approach, as the fire-type turned away from him and continued to cry.

A body behind them warmed the air slightly. "Forget sentiments. We should just take him and wait for additional support. Our only goal here is to root out any surviving forces, anyways." The Charizard pulled out a plastic restraint from his pack, brandishing them at the child. "We can ask for information later. As long as we're not engaged, that is."

Although Sirius felt a pang of guilt for handcuffing what appeared to be a 'mon not over ten years of age, he nodded his head, knowing that it was the most efficient way in performing the task. Reaching down to the hands, he began to wrap the plastic around one of the pacified child's wrists.

"Tangos!" he heard someone hiss. Gulping, he looked up at the clearing, suddenly noticing a noise that should not have been there. The sound of four old, rusty engines filled the air as the rest of the squad began to quietly pack their weapons and make themselves hidden. Then, his eyes widened at the realization that two tanks, two troop carriers, and a large contingent of Tamsus 'mon had stopped, obviously knowing that someone or something was hiding in the trees in front of them. He grabbed the Growlithe and hid behind a tree trunk, making sure to conceal his wing that always poked outwards.

"Maybe they won't notice we're here," the Swellow murmured, back pressed up against a tree. He was apparently sweating in fear, despite the harsh training that all Airborne troops had to go through. All of the others in the squad desperately hoped that he was right. As what seemed like minutes passed, everything certainly seemed to be that way until Sirius' face turned from anxious to downright frightened as he heard a soft but very, very familiar _plink_.

"GRENADE!" Justine roared, abandoning both her position and her inconspicuousness. The Salamence ran to the left, tree branches above her preventing any chance of flight out of the area unless she wanted her wings to end up a bloody mess. The rest of the group quickly followed, Lamar bringing up the rear. In a split second decision, the Latios quickly slipped the other half of the restraint on his own wrist and began to run after them, ignoring the pleas of the fire-type the plastic cuffs linked him to. Not even half a second later, the ground where they had previously been standing was ripped apart by a flurry of bullets and high explosive rounds, enemy forces not withholding any ammunition in their endeavor. The sheer impact of the explosions caused Sirius' vision and hearing to fade out for a couple of seconds, but to his credit, he kept running and running, remaining fixated on the continually glowing tail in front of him.

* * *

"Arceus. I don't believe it. They baited us with…" Lamar gasped, trying to catch his breath.

"A kid," Roc finished, though now with a tone of absolute disbelief. "They put the kid there to ambush us. The fuck is wrong with them?"

Sirius stared at the plastic handcuffs and the child they linked him to. The Growlithe was crying again, most likely scared and exhausted from their five-minute sprint from the enemy forces that began to crawl throughout the entire area. The six 'mon sat under a tree, resting for a short while before executing a counterattack, provided that they could even think of one. From the naked eye, nothing but trees surrounded them, meaning that the only threats that they would encounter were ill-trained troops, not heavy armor. _However, those tanks will cause lots of problems for whoever else they come by, which will be many, judging from the amount of 'mon who jumped._

"Roc, do we have any air support?" Justine sat upwards, looking at the Staraptor.

"Not until half an hour from now. Apparently no one likes Airborne, so they put an hour's distance between our airdrop and the Stardust Regiment's arrival." He chuckled at the derisive nickname for the Eighth Mechanized Infantry Regiment, called so for both the white diamonds on its flag and the unusually high rate of drug use among its members.

"So what are we going to do now? Regroup or engage?" The Latios concernedly scanned the dark for any sign of approaching enemy combatants.

Lamar looked at him, responding, "First, I'd be concerned about how you're going to fight with that Growlithe strapped to you." He seemed to be rustling in his pack for something, two orange horns the only noticeable features Sirius could see.

Sirius looked down once again at the plastic bind, thinking of a way to get the fire-type off of him but in a way that wouldn't endanger the child in any way. Then, he suddenly got an idea. He breathed a slight blue mist on the cuffs, extremely weakened Dragon Pulse making short work of the plastic. The Growlithe looked up somewhat fearfully, wondering if his captor was going to kill him. "Don't worry," the Latios said when he caught the thought. _Too bad I don't have a way to subconsciously soothe minds like Siria does, _he noted with regret. Then, scooping him up in both arms, Sirius slowly levitated upward.

"Hey, where do you think you're going?" Roc hissed, very aware of the possibility that the Latios' blue wings made an excellent target to any enemies looking for them.

"Don't worry about it," Sirius casually responded, much to the Staraptor's ire. Continuing upwards, he floated to the top of a particularly large tree and set the Growlithe upon a wide branch. He sat down next to him, asking, "If you agree not to jump or set this tree on fire, you can stay here. Clear?" The fire-type nodded in response, fear still showing in his eyes.

The Latios was about to give several more words of reassurance when a shout and several bursts of gunfire from below forced him to turn away. Roc was hidden behind a tree, weapon shouldered and firing away at the darkness. "Can't see for shit, Lamar! Flare!" he yelled before reaching for another magazine on his belt, spent one dropping from the rifle. The Charizard in question landed on another tree branch much like Sirius' and tossed a flare into the darkness of the woods, unable to use a fire attack due to the fact that the entire forest would go up in flames if he did. The bright, crackling light it gave off illuminated several bodies; the Latios counted a Drapion, a Floatzel, and a Swampert, each carrying a rifle and openly firing at the Staraptor. A thump above him almost made him fall in sheer panic. He jumped off of the tree, prepared to engage whatever 'mon had sneaked above their position.

"Hi there." A blue face poked out from a branch above him for a moment, reassuring him that nothing was going to attack him. Sirius tersely nodded and shot down to the ground, ready to get in on the action. "Alright, Erik, let's show them how it's done," the Salamence said, pulling her head back and nudging the Swellow assistant gunner. The bird nodded, beginning to scan the area of any targets of opportunity. The grating noise of a machine gun quickly followed as Justine fired it from a crouched stance, shells flying downwards in a torrent as the muzzle flash illuminated their position. The Growlithe underneath shivered and pulled his legs up to his chest as several of the brass pieces clinked on the wood next to him. Screams floated up from the ground below as several of the Tamsus 'mon fell victim to the suddenly apparent machine gun fire.

As the Salamence's attack suppressed enemy fire, Sirius managed to dart on the ground and blast a foxhole for himself out of the soil with a well-placed Dragon Pulse. Slipping snugly into the depression, the Latios looked up and gauged the situation again. Roc was still seated in his position behind the tree, though now yelling on a radio instead of laying down fire. Lamar was positioned far above any of them, taking very accurate shots with a semiautomatic marksman rifle. And, of course, Justine and her assistant gunner were laying down contrastingly inaccurate but equally deadly machine gun fire. The Tamsus troops had sought defensive positions just as his own squad did, effectively turning the fight into a stalemate. And he was….

_Well, what _am_ I doing?_ He paused for a moment, only to duck back into the hole when a bullet lodged itself in the dirt an uncomfortably short distance away from him. Slightly pissed off, the Latios crouched and jumped straight up, subconsciously realizing a bit late that he might end up quite injured if he didn't perform his attack right. Maw agape, he shot a sustained azure beam at the enemy position, turning his head from left to right as he strafed the vegetation with the attack. The enhanced Dragon Pulse easily sliced through the wood, felling a few trees and, more importantly, provoking more shouts of pain from those hiding behind the tree trunks. Whatever soldiers were left quickly emerged from their hiding spots, trying to avoid the scorching power of Sirius' attack. They made easy prey for the other four, guns lighting the darkness of the forest for only a few seconds. Then, everything was quiet as the last body fell to the ground with a soft _thump_.

Roc looked up from his steaming gun, nodding at the Latios. "Damn, nice shot. Haven't seen someone as good as you in quite some time." Justine and Erik, swooping down from their branch, began to spread out and check the bodies, still fully aware of their environment.

"Thanks," Sirius said, slightly abashed. "I try."

As the Staraptor slung his rifle over his shoulder and began to assist the other two, Lamar, leaping down from his branch, asked openly, "So what is the, ah… body count?" He squirmed a little as he pronounced the last two words.

"You have a problem with dead bodies?" Sirius responded, easily noticing the Charizard's discomfiture.

"Yeah, it makes me feel bad to think about each one of them. You know, what lives they led, what relatives they had…." The Charizard stared at the stumps that had once been lush trees. "But at the end of the day, I just end up shoving those emotions back down and stuff. Probably bad for my psyche, but it has to be done, you know?" The Latios nodded humbly in agreement, remaining silent but fully agreeing with the sentiment.

"Hey, Lamar," Roc, inspecting one of the bodies, called out. "Can you get the sand out of your pussy and get with the program? I counted forty troops with the armor. We only got twenty-one bodies here, meaning that there are still nineteen tangos, two tanks, and two APCs out on the loose." Sirius was slightly taken aback by the rough language, even though he was already quite used to barrack banality. _Arceus, don't vent just 'cause he's a normal 'mon…._

"Watch the language, Roc!" the Salamence said, a tone of steel in her voice.

"No need to be a prick about it," Lamar muttered, a little more than offended at the remark. Then, taking an analytical tangent, he said more loudly, "It would be a decent guess to say that the others are with the tanks. Never let armor go without infantry, as they say."

The Staraptor snorted. "Yeah, yeah, I'm sorry. Anyways, we need to somehow track and neutralize four vehicles under heavy guard by jittery troops who just got the shit bombed out of them. Any ideas?" He looked around, sarcasm written all over his face. "Maybe we can find them cruising southeast on Bakalakadaka Street."

"Try using your radio. Another squad's probably seen or engaged them already. It's not as if they can run a tank in the forest and completely avoid detection," the Charizard suggested.

Roc held a plastic box up, showing an impressive, gaping hole and the innards of the machine. "If we had a radio, that would have been the first thing I did."

"We can just let the main forces sweep them up in half an hour," Erik offered. He backed up slightly after Roc shot him a particularly withering look. "Arceus, no insults intended…."

The Salamence decided to angrily interject. "Is there a better option? Look, we don't even have a plan to take on a group of mech infantry, let alone the equipment. Unless you happen to be carrying a couple twenty-pound AT rockets, I don't see how we can get away with an assault. It's just easier to retreat and let friendly tanks take care of whatever's left over. Our main objective was to disrupt any enemy attempts to regroup, and we succeeded!"

"I'm sorry, the word 'retreat' is not in my dictionary," Roc growled. "Airborne never retreats. 'I shall prove my ability as a 'mon by defeating the enemy in the field. To quit, to surrender, is to fail,'" he quoted, referencing a particular line of Airborne creed.

Justine rolled her eyes at this. "Just because they force us to recite it almost every day at base doesn't mean that we have to follow it to the letter. And we're not quitting! We already executed the task given to us in a timely manner, and have decided that it is near suicidal to give chase to a secondary objective when we don't even have the materiel to do so! Oh, and if you're wondering," she continued, pointing a sharpened claw at him. "We are rebelling against your order. I'm sure HQ will understand perfectly." Erik and Lamar stood behind her, nodding their heads. At the side was Sirius, feeling both confused and left out.

The Staraptor blinked once before growling, "What? That's mutiny! They'll have all of your heads!"

"It's either get a chance to explain everything back at base or die here," she responded, beginning to make her way through the woods. "Besides, they abolished the death penalty for mutiny quite some time ago. Erik, grab the kid. We're leaving." Roc, closing his beak, raised his rifle at the two retreating 'mon. The Latios crouched, ready to take him down should he actually make an attempt on their lives. However, the precaution was not necessary, as the Staraptor snarled, slinging the rifle angrily over his left shoulder and stomping behind them. The Swellow flapped his wings and also fell in line, carrying the now-unconscious child in his arms. Sirius followed, trying to catch up with the Salamence and settle his confusion.

"Justine, what was that?" he asked, walking alongside her. "Mutiny's an act punishable by the highest order, no matter how you see it."

She looked at him rather nonchalantly, smiling as she glanced back at the moody Staraptor. "Well, in our squad, it's called 'mutiny' but it's really a way to get Roc's head out of the sand. He's always so stubborn and straightforward, even to the point of walking to his own death if a fancy paper with official letterhead tells him to." She ducked to avoid a low-lying branch, nearly slipping in a crater right next to the tree. Sirius shot out an arm to grab her, pulling her back up. "Thanks," she coughed, more embarrassed than shocked at the mistake. "Anyways, the only way to get through to him is to make a military threat, like mentioning mutiny. Whoever makes the threat leads because Roc just stops talking after the fact. Then, in the retreat, which it usually is, he finally thinks with his brain and comes to the rational conclusion that his idea was incredibly stupid. Consider it a quirk of this squad."

Sirius contemplated the explanation. "That _is_ pretty strange…."

"Yeah, he's a bit crazy like that. It's nice if we actually have to accomplish something, but he always goes too far." She looked ahead of her, noticing a somehow untouched dirt path. "Halt," she ordered, putting a hand behind her. "Erik, map please." The Swellow pulled out a steel tube. "I said map, not MG barrel." Flustered at his mistake, he rustled in his pack and brought out a more papery scroll. Squatting on the ground, she laid it down in front of her, talon moving about it.

Lamar looked over her shoulder, scrutinizing the map. "We're close to the edge of the forest, right? What's stopping us from going out?"

"Look to your left. Don't put your head out too far, though," she warned. He did so, eyes slightly widening as he saw a tank situated in the middle of the road, engine completely turned off.

"What's that doing there?" he asked. "It's just in the open, waiting to get nailed."

Justine motioned down at the map. "No, look," she corrected, drawing a claw down a tan line on the paper. "It's seated in a position so that if a Halcyian unit comes down this path, the tank can easily ambush it and score a kill. It doesn't matter if it's infantry or tank; at that angle we're getting casualties, no matter what."

"Which means…."

"Which means we have to take it down. It's not like before, when it was just an idiotic rush against something someone else could have taken care of," she said, glaring at Roc. "If we don't find a way to immobilize that tank, someone's definitely going to pay for our inaction. It's a shame that we're anti-infantry, not anti-tank; otherwise, we'd have a way to put a hole in it." Everybody was silent, each stumped as to how they could, with nothing but their weapons, attack the tank.

"Hmm…." The Salamence looked at Sirius. "I recall reading that Latios and Latias can shift their down to become invisible. Can you do that?"

"Don't expect him to. He can't even read minds," Roc muttered, still upset over the "coup."

Sirius ignored the remark, looking back at her. "Yeah, I can," he said, causing his left hand to disappear. "Neat little trick to do sometimes."

"On the tank, there's a 'mon on the machine gun. If you can neutralize him and get in the hatch, could you possibly disable the driver and gunner?" Her voice became somewhat hopeful as the first hints of a plan began to form.

"Huh, that's actually not a bad idea. But what happens if I mess up?"

Lamar rumbled, getting up from his seated position. "Damage the main barrel. The coaxial gun won't be able to do much to a tank, and is less damaging to infantry than a HEAT round. If he screws up, I can use the distraction and put a Blast Burn on the gun, hopefully melting it enough to jam any tank rounds. I don't know about their anti-heat protection, though…."

"We don't have a better option, unless Roc would like to mention one." The Staraptor hmphed at this, crossing his arms and shaking his head. "Well, then, we should get started. Lamar will go to a position near the tank, and Roc will spot for him," she said, nodding at the both of them. "I will be near the other two, also spotting for other threats. Erik, the FNG, gets to stay with the kid." She laughed as the Swellow gave her a sour look. "I'm kidding, I'm kidding. Well, about the FNG part, at least. Lastly, Sirius will go invisible and try to engage the tank." Justine looked at the Latios. "If you'd like to start now…."

He nodded, shifting his down and disappearing into nothingness. Well, at least the uncovered parts of his body did. The four others first looked bemusedly at the floating set of fatigues in the air. Then, a couple of jaws dropped as the clothes began to take themselves off, dropping to the dirt below them.

"Sirius, what are you doing?" the Salamence hissed, quickly overcoming her speechlessness.

The only thing left were a pair of boxers. "Sorry, these fatigues aren't made for invisibility. Pure invisibility is only done nude." Justine put her claws over her eyes as the undergarments also fell to the ground. "Don't worry, everything's covered," he reassured. "Well, unless you don't want them to be…." He chuckled, unable to resist sliding in the lewd remark.

"Whatever, just go!" she said, turning away from the now-invisible Latios. "Arceus, what a perv…."

Sirius smiled at the curse, keeping sure to float instead of press his feet on the ground. Nothing startled enemy troops more than small footprints coming out of the middle of nowhere. As he heard the rustling of leaves behind him, he concentrated on getting right next to the tank without getting caught. _The hard part is getting that guard in one shot_. He was able to sneak up right next to the steel behemoth, crouching behind one of its treads. Quickly but gently he propelled himself upwards, floating right behind the Manetric machine gunner. _Slowly, slowly…._ He reached with a hand out to the electric-type's neck, about to reach the pressure point that would render the 'mon unconscious….

CLANG!

Sirius flew backwards both in response to the Manetric's sudden movements and the giant steel barrel of the machine gun the 'mon swung at him. He hit the dirt behind the tank, rubbing his knees as they swelled a bit. Then he saw the electric-type staring at him, obviously shocked by the presence of a previously undetectable enemy. _Oh shit, my invisibility._ His hands instinctively shot to his groin at the very thought. The next thing the Latios knew, he was hastily readjusting his down while a multitude of bullets slammed the dirt behind him as the Tamsus soldier began to fire at him. He dove into one of the bushes, hoping to avoid the gunner.

"Get off of me!" Sirius heard someone yelp. Looking down, he saw a familiar Salamence face, body pinned down by his own. Then, he saw her claw come up and crudely shove him off. "And get invisible again!" Justine looked away from the Latios, blood mixing with her blue hide to create a vivid purple blush.

As the two dragons recovered from the faux pas, Lamar opened up at the tank, maw firing a scorching blaze that broiled the tank gun. Some of the conflagration washed over the Manetric, setting his fur on fire. He screamed in pain and dove back into the tank, which was admittedly not the brightest idea. As the tank began to turn towards the Charizard, its joints began to pop, smoke rising from the crevices between the turret and the hull. Realizing what was going to happen next, Lamar roared in panic and ran, an equally alarmed Staraptor following him into the forest. As the two made their escape, the fire the electric-type brought into the hatch apparently reached one of the unused tank rounds. The armored vehicle exploded in a brilliant flash of orange and white, sparing no one inside its now blackened body. A large black plume of smoke spiraled upwards along with many chunks of molten metal expelled from the sheer force of the explosion. After they were certain that the last of the steel missiles from the tank had landed, the five hiding 'mon warily got up from their positions, watching the crackling fire of the tank.

"Wait, so are we done here or what?" the Staraptor asked in a begrudged tone, impressed at the task he had failed to do.

"Looks like it," Justine replied, looking around at the squad. "Sirius, for Arceus' sake, put some clothes on!"

The Latios' head reappeared in midair, grinning crazily. "Liked what you saw?" The Salamence heavily blushed again, raising a claw. He turned invisible again and dodged as she swung at where she thought he was with a Dragon Claw. "Fine, fine," he complained, though the laughter never left his voice.

"Honestly…" she sighed, putting a palm to her face. "What a perv. The world will explode by the time he gets a date…." Lamar laughed at her exasperation, tail fire glowing brightly.

The approaching dull roar of engines caught their attention as the Salamence snapped her head upwards, looking to see if anything else was coming their way. In the far distance, the faintest rays of sun revealed a small blue flag with white diamonds running across it sitting atop an approaching APC, which was flanked by several squads of troops."Well, well, if it isn't the Stardust Regiment," Roc mockingly snarled. "A bit late because one of them didn't get their high? Or maybe they stopped at a fast food joint on the way here?"

"Enough, Roc," Justine said. "They're here, and that's all that counts. Now let's go. I'm sure the other Airborne squads are already making their way out too." The three of them began to walk towards the convoy of armor, fully clothed Latios and Swellow soon joining them. The Growlithe in Erik's arms cracked his eyes open, neither crying nor rejoicing at the slowly lighting sky. He opened his mouth as if he was going to say something, but a natural sleep quickly overtook him as he closed his eyes again, snoring lightly. Even Roc couldn't help but slightly smile at the endearing sight.

"Identify!" someone yelled in the distance. "Identify, or we will shoot!"

Justine ran forward and roared, "Airborne! Airborne!" She put her hands up in surrender just in case the other troops couldn't hear her.

As the Salamence feet stepped from dirt to grass, a jeep pulled up next to her. An Ursaring sat in the rear, pinned collar showing that he was a captain. "Airborne? We've orders to transport you back to base. There are helicopters behind us, one for each squad. Get moving."

She bowed her head. "Thank you, sir. Also, we have a prisoner of war that would fall under your jurisdiction." The Salamence motioned for Erik to come forward. "This child attacked us, though we do not know if he did it out of fright or intention." The normal-type nodded, having an assistant step out of the vehicle and take the Growlithe.

"We'll be sure to take care of him," he said as the jeep accelerated forward. The rest of her squad had now caught up with her, walking in unison to one to the awaiting transport choppers. All of them piled in, exhausted from the mission they had just completed. It then lifted off, leaving the scene with several other similarly-designed helicopters. Sirius, sitting next to Justine, smirked at her.

"So, how about those clothes…."

She slapped lightly at his cheek, too energy-deprived to summon an actual attack. "Pervert," she groaned, glancing at him tiredly.

He laughed, not bothering to raise an arm to intercept her hit. As the Latios looked out at the sky, the sun slowly crawled over the mountains as dawn broke. _Now to crash for the next ten hours…._ Slouching in his seat, he grinned as he slowly fell asleep, hardly aware of the pains and tribulations her sister had gone through just a few hours earlier.

* * *

So again, a slightly longer chapter than usual. The last few chapters regarding Siria and Wyatt were so damn depressing, so I thought I'd inject a little humor here and there. Thanks for reading!

PS. Whoever finds the movie reference gets a virtual cookie.


	12. Too Little, Too Late

ITC (in this chapter, not chat heh) lots and lots of drama.

Thanks to hironada, Sharp-Shootin' Umbreon, Galalithial, grammaguy, redsalamence222, and Infinity WEAPON for reviewing! It really motivates me to keep on writing when I get feedback, no matter if it's positive or negative.

The reference in the last chapter was a quick clip from Team America: World Police, when Roc mentions enemies going southeast on Bakalakadaka Street. Galalithial gets a free cookie even though he didn't get it right, but only because he was so adamant about wanting one! In this chapter, there are a few other references to not only movies but also other stuff, some blatant and others more subtle.

Chapter 12: Too Little, Too Late

Siria woke up. Shafts of light filtered through the blinds, throwing small yellow beams on the sheets that covered her body. Not recognizing where she was, the Latias looked around her, raising her head from the pillow. It was a small room, not much bigger than the dorm where she lived. The walls were painted a sanitary white, leaving her a little less clueless despite her disorientation. Several cabinets, filled with a variety of bottles and vials, lined the walls, tapering off on the end to allow for a small yet pleasant tree in a basket. A machine sat next to her, beeping at regular intervals and recording her pulse. A rack next to it held several bags, each of which had a tube that trailed to her exposed forearm. Turning her head to the left, she could see enough through the blinds to make out a lush green canopy for as far as the eye could see. _Fortree…?_

She then heard a shout and turned towards the source. A bird-type, young face lit up in elation, had a great grin on his face. The blue triangle on the upper part of his beak left her doubtless as to who it was. "Lanette, you're finally awake!" he exclaimed, voice filled with joy. _Wait… Lanette? _Siria tried to call out, to make a sound, to let him know that he was mistaken, but her mouth would not comply with her mind. "The doctors were worried about you! They never thought you'd be out of the coma!" He continued to talk, obviously joyful about his wife's recently development. The Latias would have smiled if she could, the Wargle's sheer joy reaching through her mild frustration. She tried lifting an arm, a leg, a wing, from the bed, but nothing would move, causing her happiness to be replaced with confusion. _What's happening? Why can't I move at all?_

"Doc. Hey, doc!" He was at the door, yelling at someone in the hallway. "My wife's conscious! She's alive!" She then heard someone else shout something incomprehensible. Satisfied, he closed the door and sat back down on his chair, affectionately watching the Latias in front of him. "We were so afraid of what would have happened if you never woke up. The doctors were working on something, but they had no hope…. And then you just wake up right now, like that! I'm sure they'll find a cure soon!" She just watched, giving up on trying to communicate with him and accepting her position in bed. He looked so young, so hopeful, so full of energy….

BOOM.

The whole room shook, causing everything within to rattle. The sound of shattering glass filled the room as one of the medicine cabinet doors swung open, dropping some of its stored vials to the floor. The fluorescent lights hanged on the ceiling rocked violently from side to side, as if the wires holding them there were going to snap at any moment. One of them shorted out, flickering bulb casting irregular flashes of light on the Latias. Startled but bedridden, Siria could only look fearfully out the window to see what exactly was going on. The blinds were knocked askew, allowing her to take in a full view of the panorama outside. The sky was no longer a fresh blue but instead an ashen black, dimly lit by the fires that consumed the trees below. Many flying 'mon made their ascent, trying to escape the sudden, menacing attack that threatened to overtake the city and destroy it. Now able to see through the torn, torched tree line, she could see clusters of fire-types on the ground throwing fire attacks at anything that seemed to be flammable. Another explosion, though farther off in the distance, created a thick, oily plume as many smaller blasts accompanied it. Hardly a second after that, all of the lights went out. The beeping machine whined and shut down, pulse fading from its screen.

Looking back into her own room, she saw the Wargle positioned next to her bed, semiautomatic pistol out of the holster. He aimed it firmly at the door, prepared to fill anything that dared to come through it with lead. "What the hell is going on?" he yelled into a cell phone. "I thought this area was cleared a long time ago!" A tinny squawk on the phone provoked another angry response. "Well, looks like your intel was wrong! I need to evac my wife, not to mention Arceus knows how many bedridden civilians! Give me a LZ, any LZ!" Another buzz of a reply. "What, there? Do you honestly expect me to-"

THUD.

As someone knocked the door clean off its hinges, the flying-type dropped his phone and readjusted his position a bit, still keeping the pistol trained on the doorway. As a snow-white figure walked in, he fired half of the rounds in the magazine in a second, trigger finger never ceasing movement for a moment. The attack was to no avail, though; the Glaceon simply waved his hand and created a barrier of ice. It trapped all twelve of the rounds, completely depriving them of their kinetic energy. With another wave of his hand, the ice-type did away with the wall. Seizing upon this chance, the Wargle drew a combat knife from a leather sheath and rushed the Glaceon, hoping to neutralize him in close quarters combat. The enemy laughed and sidestepped the charge, sticking out a leg to trip the crazed flying-type. The flying-type jumped and spread his wings to avoid the attack; however, he had apparently forgotten that he was fighting in a very tight environment. One of his wingtips clipped the lights, causing him to snap his head back to see if there was another attacker behind him. The time he spent considering the possibility was more than enough of a chance for the Glaceon to also jump and deal a flying kick to his stomach. The Wargle went sprawling into the open medicine content, breaking its wooden construction and spilling the rest of its contents on the ground. Not even missing a single beat, the ice-type finished the quick exchange by aiming an Ice Beam at the bird, freezing him along with the wreckage he laid in.

Siria watched all of this, rational component of her brain screaming at her to do something, anything! However, just as before, her body simply would not comply. All she could do was stare at the Glaceon as he looked away from his handiwork to face her. "Long time no see, compassionate Siria," he said in a perfectly normal tone, as if the fight before had not even occurred. She could not help but feel her blood run cold at his voice. It possessed some malignancy, some poison that struck absolute fear into her. After this chilling greeting, he turned from her to one of the medicine cabinets, opening it and messily tossing bottles here and there. After a minute of rummaging, he held a small jar of liquid between his fingers. It was as black as black could be, almost like a collapsing star in the manner that it seemed to absorb all of the light around it. It was _that_ liquid. Shadow.

As she watched in fear, he stuck a syringe into the vial, drawing the liquid inside. Then, tossing the bottle back to shatter on the ground with all of the others, he approached her bedside and sat on the chair that the Wargle once occupied. She could see droplets of Shadow falling to the ground, spreading an evil black texture through the other medicinal liquids that coated the floor.

"Would you like to try some?" he asked, still maintaining a normal, stoic voice. If the situation were entirely different, he could have been a doctor administering a drug to a frightened youngster. However, such a possibility laid only in the realm of fantasy. She shook her head violently, the only resistance she could possibly offer against his desires. Obviously, the ice-type did not take well to her refusal. He reached for her right arm, removing the tubes running into them before sliding the needle into her vein. The Latias watched, unable to even whimper at the pain she felt from the action. Then, the Glaceon shot a maniacal grin at her, put his thumb on the plunger, and-

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHH!" Siria shot up straight from her bed screaming. She looked downwards, fully expecting to see a horribly mutated body, or worse. However, all that she saw were her two, normal red arms in front of a set of sheets obviously covering the rest of her body. As her left hand passed over her arm a multitude of times, the Latias relaxed only a bit at the knowledge that there were no scars or punctures in it. All of her muscles were tensed up as she breathed deeply, hundreds of thoughts running through her head at once. _It was a dream, just a bad dream. Just a bad dream…_.

Getting down from the top bunk, she noticed that her entire body was slick with perspiration. Siria shivered, not knowing whether it was because of the cold draft coming through the room or the horrible dream she just had. She dragged herself to the bathroom, legs feeling more like deadweights than actual parts of her body. As she looked in the mirror, she saw a Latias that was nothing like the usual one who preened over herself each morning. Her down was maladjusted and clumped in many areas, as if she taken Wing Attacks from multiple directions. Bloodshot eyes stared back at Siria as she looked at her tangled hair. She did not even bother reaching for the comb, instead standing there and recollecting what had exactly happened in the past hours. She remembered getting on the chopper and sleeping there, then sleeping through debriefing even though someone yelled at her, then… waking up here? Speaking of which, _how_ did she get back here?

"So you're finally awake, huh?" A figure very similar to hers stood in the doorway of the room. She instinctively recoiled and tried to cover much of herself as possible, as she was wearing simply a half-soaked T-shirt and gym shorts. Only after identifying the owner of the voice did she begin to relax, albeit very little. As Sirius walked inside, he managed to get a better look at her. "Whoa, you look like someone tethered you to the back of a jet and flew a thousand klicks or so. What gives?" An icy glare from the Latias was more than sufficient to silence the fully uniformed 'mon. She turned away from him, not even deigning to say a word to him as she slammed the bathroom door in his surprised face.

"What's her deal?" she heard him muse through the thin wooden door. "Someone send her out to find a box of grid squares again?" Siria didn't know whether to cry, scream, or march back out and shove a Dragon Pulse up his ass for his insensitivity. After a few seconds of heavy breathing and deliberation, she did none of the above, settling instead for a hot shower. She took off her clothing so fast that they threatened to rip, but she couldn't care less about them. In fact, she couldn't care less about anything. Turning the knob in the stall to its hottest setting, she flinched as a jet of ice cold water hit the front of her body before the temperature stabilized, clouds of steam beginning to form in the bathroom. As hot water began to run down her body, she did not reach for the shampoo or the soap; the Latias was far removed from reality, staring at the plastic mosaic of the wall.

She remained in this trance until she felt a burning sensation on her chest. Whimpering in pain, Siria looked downwards to see a very familiar metal locket hanging around her neck. It was hot to the touch as she held it in her hand, absorbing all of the heat the shower water gave it. Why it was draped around her neck was a mystery in itself, but she did not question its existence for a moment as all of the memories it contained flooded her mind. _Wyatt…._ The eidetic memory that she hated so much played each scene in vivid detail before her eyes. The Glaceon about to rape her. The Wargle slamming into the crater. Wyatt's last breaths. It wasn't fair at all. Why did she have to be deployed with him? Why did they have to kill all of those 'mon? Why did that Arceus-damn Glaceon have to show up? Why did Wyatt have to survive before he died? Why?

Siria stood silently in the shower, warm tears mingling with the rest of the water cascading down her body.

The Latios sighed, setting his gear on the bed under the bunk and wondering why exactly Siria was so upset. Was it something he said? Maybe something happened last night….

The door opened again, allowing an Umbreon to slip into the room. "Hello," Shadrach greeted, setting his own bags on a bed opposite Sirius'. He perked his ears, hearing the sound of running water. "Who's using the shower at eighteen-hundred? Levina doesn't shower before dinner, and Siria didn't even show up for training today."

"Siria's in there," he replied, looking at the bathroom door. "She seemed pretty angry about something, though I don't know what. Been…." He glanced at the clock. "Half an hour since she started. I don't know if she's adapted some different routine here, but back at home she'd be done in fifteen minutes, tops."

"Angry about what?" the Umbreon questioned, obviously more concerned about her status than the time she spent in there. "She did seem a bit tired at debriefing, even to the point when she fell asleep, and she never does that."

"Beats me. She didn't give me a chance to ask before she shut the door in my face." He shrugged.

Shadrach hummed, taking off his fatigues. "Well, the only thing I can think of is that we had several combat casualties on our miss- err, I mean our armory run." The Latios gave him a condescending look. "Ok, fine, we were assigned a mission last night." Eager to cover for his spectacular fumble, he changed the subject. "Why don't you try to ask her mentally? You two do share a link." He looked at the blue dragon for a response.

"Yeah, I can try. Just extend my brainwaves to the bathroom, enter her mind when she's showering- are you insane?" Sirius shot him an incredulous look. "She'll knock me out and castrate me, and I don't even know which she'll do first! I remember the first time I tried asking her something when she was in there; rather, the only time I tried." He rubbed his leg. "Arceus, all I needed were some solutions to algebra problems…. Siria was like Levina that one night, but a thousand times worse, if you can believe it. If it weren't for my mother's healing skills, I would have been in the hospital for Arceus knows how long." He laughed, recalling the memories. "Though I did catch a wave of what she was thinking of…." The Latios' eyes glinted mischievously.

Shadrach rolled his eyes exasperatedly at him. "Nice to know your mind is in the gutter as always. Shouldn't you be more concerned about her though? I mean, if something set Siria off that badly, then it's obviously something big." He neatly packed his clothing into a dresser and shut it.

Sirius looked at the Umbreon. "If by being concerned you mean stay the hell out of her way, then yes, I am being concerned. Her 'cycle' is nothing compared to this, by the way, though you three may already know that." He gestured in the air with crude finger quotes. "The last time she had one of these majorly pissy times (which was only about about five years ago, mind you), she nearly got our high school psychiatrist to suicide. So if you want to keep your mind intact, just stay away from her. For us it's different, since you're a dark-type and I'm her brother, but the sheer rage she takes out on me makes her a very frightening 'mon, so I try to stay away regardless. The amount of negativity she can generate is astounding sometimes, though that may be from her enhanced psychic abilities more than anything else."

"I'll keep that in mind," he replied, sitting on his bed. Shadrach looked concernedly at the door, thinking about what exactly could have drove her to such anguish. His thoughts were interrupted by the diminishing sound of falling water, though.

"Quick! Make it look like we weren't talking!" the Latios ordered, jumping onto his cot and pulling a dual-screened gaming device from his pocket.

"Why?"

"Just do it!"

A bit alarmed by the dragon's adamancy, Shadrach took his advice, taking his rifle and placing it on the desk. After checking the chamber for any rounds, he disengaged the retaining pin and separated the lower and upper receivers, beginning the process of cleaning the gun. He tried his best to ignore the steps that accompanied the hot, lavender-scented air that flowed through the room as Siria walked out of the bathroom, focusing instead on finding any defects in the steel bolt carrier group he pulled out of the upper receiver. Sirius also busied himself, staring intently at the screens of his game. He held a stylus in one hand, apparently in the middle of deciding between several courses of action. As the Latias floated upwards to the bed above him, he tapped the screen two times and scowled when several slightly audible explosions came from the speakers.

"Antiair only does sixty-five percent damage to bombers," the girl muttered before lying face down. Sirius glanced upwards, taking note of her advice. "Also, you can give up the charade. I heard every word." The bitterness in her words was more than enough to make both of them look at her in surprise.

Sirius flipped his game shut, shoving it back into his pocket. "Siria, what's wrong?" he asked with genuine concern. "Did something happen last night?"

"What's wrong? What's WRONG?" Even though her face was buried in the pillow, the sheer animosity in her voice rang crystal clear. The Latias' body began to convulse as she began to cry again. Noticing this, Sirius looked at the Umbreon and motioned his head towards the door. Understanding the situation perfectly, the 'mon got up and left, being sure to close it gently behind him. No one but the two siblings remained in the room.

The Latios got up and walked over to Shadrach's bed, getting a full view of her sister. Sighing, he began, "Siria, let's take it from the top. Why are you upset?" She didn't reply, instead turning to the wall and continuing to sob. "Please, tell me. We can't have you in a mental wreck forever. You slept for eighteen hours, for Arceus' sake" he persisted. Still no response. "You can't even tell your bro?" Bowing his head at the lack of an answer, Sirius did something that he knew would probably backfire in a million different ways. He tried to access her mind, searching for anything that may have triggered her anguish. It was surprisingly easy, he noticed. Usually he had much trouble linking with Siria, but he reasoned that her emotional state left her much less protective than usual of her mental domain.

Sirius' vision faded out as it was replaced with pictures seen from Siria's eyes. _A flying 'mon that he didn't quite recognize. A group of five Tamsus troops before a fire. Four of them falling, leaving… a Tyranitar? Antiaircraft guns being rigged. The same Tyranitar being speared with ice attacks, falling, dying…. The two of them engaging a Glaceon. Interesting Choice Specs. She thought she was successful, but the ice-type snuck up behind her and…. _It took every bit of self-control Sirius had to not burn the entire room down to cinders. Instead, he continued to rifle through her memories, looking to see if there was more than one cause for her anguish. _The same 'mon he didn't recognize slam into the Glaceon at an impossibly fast speed… then Siria tried to heal him, but failed…. He had a story to tell, a Latias named Lanette? Then he died in her hands…._

He shouted out in pain as the mental link was suddenly disconnected, psychic energy causing him to suddenly acquire an incredible headache. Looking back up, he saw Siria sitting on the bed, fiercely glaring at him. _Oooohhh shit. _He laid flat on the bed, narrowly avoiding a powerful Dragon Pulse that pierced through the wooden paneling behind him. The sheer heat and energy from the attack he felt as it singed his spiky hair made him think twice before scanning her mind again and not even once before profusely apologizing to her. Before he could get his apology out, though, the Latias began to vent.

"Sirius, what the hell? How can you just not ask and go into my mind and look at everything?" she yelled, wiping at her eyes. He looked down, not knowing whether to bring up the extremely valid and obvious point that he _did _ask or act remorseful so that she would calm down. "What's your problem? You insensitive jerk! I can't believe that you're my brother!"

"Siria, I'm sorry-"

"You better damn well be sorry! Don't you have any sense of guilt? Of shame?" Her fists were clenched as she trembled with rage. "You don't just go looking around in 'mon's minds, even if I'm your sister!"

He sat up, trying to reason with her. "I didn't mean any offense, I swear. It's just that I was really concerned for you. You seemed really upset, and I wanted to-"

"Wanted to what?" she hissed. Sirius looked at the distraught Latias as her eyes glowed, fearing more and more for his life as each second passed. "Peek into my deepest thoughts? Learn about every part of my life?" The accusations came in waves, seeming to distort the very air in the room with each new claim. "Mock and humiliate me? What did you want?"

He hung his head in shame. "I just wanted to comfort you…. I am your brother, after all," he murmured, humbled by her words. The Latios looked down at the floor, unable to meet her gaze.

Siria didn't even soften at the remorseful response, an even harder tone making its way through her teary shouts. "So that gives you a right to see what happened? To invade my privacy? So you wanted to know what's wrong. Well, now you do! Are you satisfied?" He didn't respond, still looking downwards. Chest still heaving, she began her explanation. "Sirius, I was almost raped. I was two seconds from that bastard from sticking his junk in me. And not only that, I had not one, but two 'mon who spilled their whole lives in front of me, and they got killed! They died, and I just watched! I didn't even have an Arceus-damn chance in hell to save them! I'm so useless!" As she wept, Sirius remained mute, though it was more than clear that several wars of conscience were being waged in his mind. Then, the Latias snapped her head up and glared at him through misty eyes. "It's even worse that we share a link, too! I can hear and know everything you think! Why don't you just say it? That it makes no sense for me to be so upset over someone dying! I'm sorry I'm not Sirius, the mentally defective, war-crazy idiot! I'm sorry I don't spend every minute of the day breathing in rifle gas and tank exhaust! I'm sorry I don't have the medic skills you have to save whoever's there! I'm sorry I have feelings!" After her last scream, she jumped down from the bunk. The Latios also rose, standing at attention.

"Siria, I… what I want to say is…." He stammered, trying to think of a response that would not give his sister a reason to cause his head to explode. "I'm sorry, I truly am. And I just wanted you to kn-" The Latios did not a pain in his head but instead a sting on his cheek as Siria slapped him as hard in the face as she could. It was not one of those casual hits that she often doled out to him, but instead one that spoke on multiple levels. Although the blow did not hurt too much in itself, the emotional force it conveyed hit him harder than a jet ramming into him at full speed. The pain, the anguish, the sadness, the anger, and the sense of betrayal in it caused him to sit back down on the bed, all of his energy fleeing his body at once.

"Save it, Sirius. I don't need to hear anything else." She sighed, husky voice only contributing to its depressing tone. "Just leave me alone." The Latios watched as his sister slowly opened the door and left, setting sun throwing her shadow on the linoleum. The walk quickly turned into a sprint as her silhouette rose into the sky, quickly disappearing into nothing more than a dot as she flew away as fast as she could, wind wiping the tears from her eyes. Sirius could only watch and lower his head, putting his hands in front of him as he gazed at the floor. A stray breeze caught the door and shut it, leaving the Latios to sit in solitude in the dark and ponder the implications of what had just happened.

* * *

"Ugh, we save their asses from being shot to hell and the Air Wing goes parading about how they 'saved' the day by neutralizing all of those Tamsus units," an unhappy Ampharos complained. She glowered at a random passing 'mon, recognizing the dual-winged patch on his shoulder. The Persian looked back, confused at her anger, but an Umbreon pushed the Ampharos along before the situation could devolve into a brawl in the middle of the base.

"Levina, you know that half of the stuff we do is classified. If word got out that Special Forces does so many under-the-table operations, the enemy's going to step up their security tenfold," Shadrach chided. "Granted, that's technically what we're trained for, but SF is supposed to be more versatile than that."

She continued her rant as if he had not even spoken. "And not to mention the Stardust Regiment! If I've ever seen a group of crackheads, it's gotta be them. Arceus, I've never seen so much coke in one place…. " Her partner sighed, shaking his head. Once she got started on something, she'd never stop until something else of interest caught her attention.

The two of them reached their housing unit, stomachs full and satisfied from the meal the mess provided them. Shadrach, still conscious of the fact that the dragon siblings inside could still be mulling their thoughts over, knocked twice on the door. When no response emerged, he turned the knob and entered.

The first thing that he noticed that it was very dark inside. It was quite possibly darker than it was outside with the sun barely peeking from above the mountains, as no windows were installed the shipping container-like living quarters for both safety and practicality's sake. As he turned on the light, the second thing he noticed was that there was only one occupant in the room, a Latios on his bed staring at the ground. Siria was nowhere to be seen, not on her bunk reading as usual or in the bathroom doing her hair. It didn't take long for Shadrach to piece two and two together, leading him to a very disturbing and depressing understanding. Unfortunately, Levina didn't reach the same conclusions that he did.

"What fresh hell is this? Sirius alone on a good night for hitting on girls?" She smirked, completely expecting him to respond with a taunt in kind. After this failed to provoke even a movement, her grin grew wider as she formed her own theory for his depression. "Aww, did you get dumped again? Hardly surprising." At this point Shadrach felt it necessary to pull Levina outside before she could hit upon a very sensitive subject.

"Listen, I don't think you should be antagonizing him right now. I'm guessing that he had a pretty rough argument with Siria and things went out of hand," he explained, trying to diffuse the Ampharos' brash nature.

"Argument? Do tell." Her face lit up as she realized the potential gossip that laid latent in the situation.

He shook his head and replied, "I'll tell you about it later. Just keep your mouth shut for now." The two reentered the room as calmly as they could, trying to make it seem as if the electric-type had not even said anything. The dragon still remained sitting on the Umbreon's bed, holding the same position he had since the hour and a half that passed after Siria's outburst. As Shadrach saw the still-dissembled rifle on his desk, he set upon it and began to put it back together in an attempt to avoid contact with the angsty Latios. Levina busied herself with looking through a drawer chock-full with discs. She fidgeted at irregular intervals, normally very unaccustomed to being quiet for so long, especially since there was such an easy target hardly two meters from her.

With an audible _clack_, Shadrach pulled the charging handle on his gun and found it to be in satisfactory condition. He put it besides his bed, allowing the rifle to lean on one of its legs. Then, noticing that a 'mon was still occupying the space he intended to sit upon, he tapped him on the shoulder. "Uh, Sirius…."

He looked up slowly, as if he was being ripped away from a trance. "Oh, sorry," he replied emotionlessly, getting up and lying on his own bed. The Latios quickly returned to his vegetative state, staring at the wooden support beams that held up the bed above him. Shadrach, sitting on his cot, watched him concernedly, wondering just how badly the conversation between the two had gone.

"Hey, Shadrach," Levina called. The Umbreon turned towards her. "What movie tonight? We got A Bridge Too Far, Saving Private Raichu, a bootleg copy of Conception…." She held up three DVDs, waving them at the Umbreon. "We also have-" Her list was interrupted by a sickening crunch from Sirius' side of the room. Both of them looked in surprise at the Latios violently punched one of the planks above him, nearly splitting it into two.

"I'm an idiot!" he roared, letting out another blow. Blue vapors began to form around his mouth. "I can't believe I did that!" The other two 'mon watched him in both fascination and alarm as he yelled at no one in particular. "I couldn't even apologize to her! I'm the worst brother in the world! I'm so… stupid…." His outstretched arm fell limply to his side as he breathed the last word out. Shadrach and Levina exchanged glances before looking at him again.

The former 'mon, recognizing this type of behavior, got up and took up a chair next to Sirius. "I know I really shouldn't be asking this, but what exactly happened?"

"Don't you remember what happened the last time someone asked those words?" The Latios sighed out of tiredness. "Do you really want to know?"

"Yes, I do. Although you're not the best of friends, we do look out for each other. Now, what happened?"

Sirius got up from his reclining position, sitting on the bed. "Well, I asked Siria a bunch of times about what was wrong. She shut up, though, and wouldn't talk to me. Then, after some deliberation, I…." His face twitched, as if he wanted to spit in disgust. "I tried scanning her mind to see what was making her upset. I know she doesn't take too well to it, but that's only when she alone, so I didn't expect her to-" A crackling bolt of electricity caught him square in the chest, knocking him back down. He made no effort to sit up again, too overcome with remorse and angst.

"You did what?" Levina got up from her DVD collection, anger written all over her face. "Arceus, you really are an clueless bastard, aren't you? When a girl says that she doesn't want to talk, she doesn't want to talk, even if you're her brother! You don't keep asking her, and you definitely don't go barging around in her mind to figure out why! And I thought there was a shred of decency under that façade of yours, too…" she huffed, jumping up to her bunk and staring at him. "And let me guess. She probably called you a jerk and told you why, in exceedingly explicit detail, why she was upset and then left."

"It gets worse than that," Sirius muttered.

"It gets worse?" she echoed. "How the hell could it get worse?"

"Well, the reasons were the main part. One was that-" Here he let a Dragon Claw rip through the wall beside him, creating a rather large and impressive gash in the woodwork. "Some Glaceon bastard almost raped her last night." Shadrach's eyes widened with both fear and recognition, mind trailing back to a certain encounter. "But somehow even that wasn't the part that set everything off. She said that two 'mon died on her or something. First though that came to mind was, 'Two 'mon isn't that big of a deal.' If we weren't linked, it wouldn't have been a problem. But then she picked up on it. She gave me the worst slap of my life and then jetted." He rubbed his cheek in regret, looking far more sorry than either of the two expected of a 'mon like him. Noticing a piercing glare from the Ampharos, he continued, "For Arceus' sake, I'm a medic! It's only second nature to think that! When you're working on someone and then he just goes and dies in your hands, you don't have a choice but to think like that! Otherwise you just lose yourself in the fact that each 'mon had his own life, his own history, and then end up suicidal and probably dead! I can't even count on my fingers the number of times I've had someone die on me just because I didn't have the right tools or enough time!" He covered his face in frustration, done with his sorrowful monologue. Both Shadrach and Levina looked at him, not knowing what to do with him. Well, in the former's case, at least.

Levina got down and marched over to him, tugging at one of his feathery, streamlined ears. "Well, what are you going to do about it? Just mope around?" He didn't respond, lying there limply. "Well? Go and apologize to her!" she demanded, obviously not content with letting him lie there.

"I don't even know where she is," Sirius replied desolately, pain from Levina's efforts not even registering on his face. "She flew away an hour and a half ago. She could be hundreds of klicks in any direction. And she probably doesn't even want to see me anyways…." He sighed, closing his eyes.

Letting his head fall back on the bed, Levina looked at Shadrach. "Any ideas?"

He thought for a minute before replying, "Do you think she might be…."

"There? I wouldn't doubt it. But isn't that off base? I'm not one for rules, but we could all get court martialed if they come and find that we aren't here."

"Levina, we're going to get court martialed anyways if Siria doesn't come back. And from the looks of it, the chances of her returning without any help are close to none," Shadrach said, looking at the clock. "We have three hours to get her back before they make their rounds. By air, it's only a ten minute flight, but I don't think she'd be too happy to see Sirius." The Latios grunted mildly in response, eyes still closed. "By foot, it's at least forty-five minutes. So…."

"We have an hour and a half to convince Siria to come back after we get to her," the Ampharos finished, mentally calculating the times. "Problem is, only one of us can go. Two of us going out will get too much attention, and, well…." She looked over her own body. "I'm bright yellow, you're jet black, and all of that special stealth stuff is locked up in the armory. I think the decision is obvious."

Shadrach nodded, fully agreeing with her analysis. "So, err, how exactly do I get out in the first place? And how do you know about all of this?"

She laughed. "Of course goody two-shoes Sergeant Shadrach wouldn't know the tricks of the trade. Usually, on lazy Sundays with no missions, some of the guys and I sneak off to one of the local towns for a few beers. Well, they drink. I just watch and laugh." The Umbreon shot her a quizzical look. "None of them are in the Air Wing, so they have the decency to know when enough's enough and get back without getting caught by the MPs," she explained, referencing the packs of Growlithe and Arcanine that always patrolled the base for any illicit acts of any sort. "Oh, and how we get out? I think James is on the north gate shift now. Just tell him Levina sent you. Usually security's tighter at night, but there aren't any Tamsus positions north of us. On that note, don't every try the south gate. Those guys are _anal_ about their work, and they will basically force you to pull out every ID on your body before telling you that it's past hours."

Waiting far too long for the single answer in her lengthy explanation, Shadrach thanked her and threw on his fatigues, knowing the night was far chillier than the day. "I'll try my best to be back in three hours. If not, say that I'm at the DFAC."

"DFAC? Really? I didn't even know the DFAC was open at twenty-three hundred." She wrinkled her nose at the mention of the mess halls.

"Restaurant, whatever! Just cover for me and make some excuse," he sighed before opening the door. As he closed the door, Shadrach swore he could hear Levina saying, "Now, Sirius, this is how we treat girls…." The Umbreon shook his head in exasperation, wondering how everything went to hell so quickly.

_I have three hours. Let's make this happen_.


	13. Solace

A continuation of the drama from the last chapter. Apparently Siria has some kind of inferiority complex...

There are a little more military-esque terms than usual (both official and slang), so Google a phrase up if you don't know what it means!

Thanks to Gala and grammaguy for reviewing!

* * *

Chapter 13: Solace

The Latias stalked out of the dorm, slow walk quickly turning into a frenzied dash as she straightened her wings. "Damn it. Damn it all!" she choked, leaping and using her psychic energy to sustain her flight. She didn't even feel the blunt impact of the cool air as she accelerated far too fast for safety, completely senseless from the argument with her brother. The wind that passed her ruffled and tossed her down, ruining the nearly-perfect sheen she had paid so much attention to. Siria couldn't care less about how she looked, though. The only thing that filled her mind was a choleric mixture of anger, pain, and sorrow. Looking behind her, she could see the forward base slowly fade in the distance. She shot it a contemptuous look, wishing that flying away from it could make everything she hated disappear from her life. _But nothing's that simple, is it?_

As she continued to fly, she felt the dull warmth of the setting sun on her body, much of it absorbed by her navy blue T-shirt. _I hate it. I don't know why, but I absolutely hate it._ She glared at the giant star as if she could incinerate it through psychic power. After failing at this, she looked downwards, trying to get a good estimate of her location. Under normal circumstances she would know exactly where she was, but these weren't normal circumstances, were they?

She suddenly gasped for air, a result of her not keeping track of how far she was above the ground. The cloudless sky offered no gauge for her position, thinning atmosphere the only indicator as to how much higher Siria needed to transcend the death zone, an airspace where it would be impossible for any flying 'mon to breathe in enough oxygen to sustain flight or life, for that matter. As she began to consider how much farther she would need to go to kill herself, something she saw below her distracted her from her suicidal thoughts. She could pick out a grassy knoll far below her, a single tree dotting its top. It was the hill that she and her brother would always go to pick Pamtre Berries to bring back to base, though Sirius was more partial to the spicier Spelon Berries all the way back at home. The mere thought of the Latios brought fresh tears to her eyes as she tried to purge her mind of the memories. _Arceus-dammit, why do I have to be reminded of him?_

Not even thinking twice, she dived straight downwards at the hill, calling upon her innate ability to accelerate up to the cruising speed of a fighter jet but going a little slower only because breaking the sound barrier would undoubtedly liquefy all of her internal organs. Not that she would mind dying; the Latias simply didn't want to experience too much pain or discomfort when she did so. Her track pants whistled at her movement, threatening to either shred or simply rip off her body as the wind tore by them. However, though what could be considered nothing less than a miracle, the rapid five-second descent left her completely clothed as she decelerated to a halt, floating only a meter above the ground. Releasing her psychic control over her body, she fell to the ground in a crumpled heap, whimpering lightly at the pain she felt. Not a moment later, she began to beat at it, punching and tearing savagely at the grass.

"Arceus-dammit!" Siria unsheathed her oft-hidden claws as she tried but absolutely failed in renting the ground with a Dragon Claw. A clod of dirt flew upwards as her attack left a pathetically small gash in the grass. The scent of fresh soil began to fill the air as she flailed unsuccessfully at the ground again, achieving nothing but marring her clothing with grass and dirt stains. "Why did I have to kill them? Why couldn't I be strong and finish that damn Glaceon when I had the chance? Why couldn't I save him before he died?" she cried, still attacking the ground uncontrollably. "Why can't I keep my emotions in? Why do I have to be so weak?" Tears rolled down her cheeks and meshed with the damp soil her gouges had exposed. "Why can't I be like Sirius?" She suddenly halted and widened her eyes at the last outburst, taking a minute for her mind to fully register what she had just said. _Did I just… no…._

"Oh, Arceus…" she breathed. Flipping over, she scooted backwards, resting against the rough bark of the tree. The confused Latias folded her legs into her chest and wrapped her arms around them, lowering her head and sobbing softly in the glow of the setting sun.

* * *

Shadrach, looking for an opportunity to slip by and get off base, watched the convoy of tented cargo trucks and infantry fighting vehicles lining up at the gate. The logistic units came to bring everything imaginable to the forward operations base, from rifle cartridges and tank shells for military operations to shoes and television sets for the local PX, where soldiers could buy consumer goods they normally wouldn't be able to purchase. After spending the day unloading, the fleet would return back to society to pick up the same supplies to ferry to other bases scattered throughout the country. The Umbreon couldn't help but observe the transport crew with interest as they marshaled the fleet into a straight line, several 'mon weaving between the large trucks and waving their arms. Luckily for those who lived on the rather large base, the roads to the north were recently de-mined of Tamsus explosives, so logistics' visits were weekly rather than monthly.

With a faint shout in the distance, the front vehicle, a brutish-looking APC with a menacing autocannon affixed to the turret, roared to life, belching black smoke from its rear exhaust. The five or six trucks behind it also did the same as several 'mon ran towards them, pushing a cart with several wooden boxes on top. After the rest of the goods were packed, the line moved slowly as the first armored vehicle took some time to accelerate, but within thirty seconds the entire convoy was moving, two extra IFVs bringing up the rear so that no Tamsus insurgent could attempt an attack and escape unscathed. As the last armored vehicle left the base, a Pidgeot and a Lucario pushed shut a pair of gate doors that were easily taller than them, chaining them together with a heavy steel lock. A large, obnoxious sign hanged near the top of one chain-link fence said "STOP" in commanding letters; below it was a block of significantly smaller text that said in no unkind terms that anyone leaving without signed consent from a higher up would be court martialed. A loopy scrawl below the warning, obviously added by the gate guards, added that the aforementioned criminal would receive a good ass-whooping before being turned over to military police. As Shadrach got close enough to the gate to read everything, he involuntarily felt a slight chill go up his back, praying to Arceus that this James that Levina had mentioned would be as lax as she hinted he would be.

The Umbreon walked up behind the pair of retreating 'mon, who were about to climb up an observation post. "Excuse me, do you know if there's a James on duty tonight?"

Both the Pidgeot and the Lucario turned around, the former eyeing him suspiciously. "He may. Why?" the flying-type asked in a gruff voice, tossing his plumage.

Shadrach, not knowing how to hint that he needed to get out without explicitly stating it, replied ambiguously, "I need to talk to him about something."

He snorted. "Well, James isn't in a talking mood. Sorry."

As the Pidgeot began to turn around, the Lucario caught his shoulder. Taking off his helmet, he began, "I'm James. What do you need? And sorry for Donnie's behavior." He waved a paw at his partner. "He's not the kindest of 'mon, as you can tell." The flying-type scowled at the Lucario as he gave his introduction.

"Yes, well, I was told by Levina that if I needed to get off base, I should just talk to you and mention her name."

James put his paw to his mouth, pondering the Umbreon's request. "Levina… Levina… Akyra? The Ampharos?" he responded, seeming to recognize her name. As Shadrach nodded his head, he continued, "What's the reason? Even though I may seem laid back to you, I need to know for sure that you won't do anything that'll cost jobs or, more importantly, lives." His friendly demeanor turned a bit colder as he looked at the dark-type with sterner eyes. The spikes on the back of his paws gleamed threateningly as they caught the light tower's beams.

Shadrach opened his mouth and then closed it, weighing the two choices he had. On one hand, if he didn't divulge the reason, what chance did he have of getting out? But on the other, could he really disclose that he had to convince a particularly angry and unstable Latias to return to base? After a deliberate silence, he chose to walk the line between the two, replying, "I can tell you if I must, but it's rather personal and important to me."

The Lucario frowned at his response, mulling it over. Then, his eyes glowed red for a second. Shadrach tensed up, not knowing what the fighting-type was doing. "I'm going to be perfectly honest here," James said after a deliberate silence. "Your reason sucks because it tells me nothing and just makes me more suspicious of you. But," he continued, noting the Umbreon's dismay. "Your Aura looks honest, so I do believe you in that regard, not to mention Levina trusts you enough to tell you about me." Shadrach relaxed at his announcement.

"Ok, here's what you gotta do. You know the barriers that surround the whole base? There's a particular one in front of our post, which is here." He pointed to a wooden frame of a guard tower, fit almost perfectly against a concrete shield. "In front of it, there's a plank of wood. Lift it up, and there's a tunnel. There's a brown blanket covering the other side, so be sure to replace it snugly so it meshes in with the rest of the dirt. Then, you're home free. Use the same way to come back, except do a special knock on the wood." He rapped a particular pattern on his paw. "Since I'll on duty all night, I'll tell the other guards not to shoot at you if I see you coming back. Oh, and do you plan to bring someone back with you?" The Umbreon nodded tightly. "Yeah, if you promise if it's not a Tamsus 'mon (which it probably won't be; you're trustful) I'll tell them not to shoot anyone with you either."

"Thank you, James," Shadrach replied in turn, impressed with the lengthy but very informative explanation. Feeling a little bit guilty that he had nothing else of value to add, he turned and began to walk towards the spot that the Lucario had mentioned.

"Oh, also," the Umbreon heard James call out. "Good luck with that girl." At the mention of Siria, blood began to rush to Shadrach's tall ears as he wondered just how much the fighting-type had picked up from looking at his Aura.

After he got over his mild embarrassment, Shadrach casually walked behind one of the beams of the guard tower and looked around, trying to see if anyone was watching him. Seeing no one in particular focusing on him, he dimmed the rings on his body to minimize his profile so that he would attract little attention later on. As he strained his eyes a bit, he could see the dirt-brown piece of wood the Lucario had told him about. With one more glance around him, he hit the dirt, crawling to the plank. With little effort, he was able to slide it to the left, revealing a decently large tunnel. No Dialga or Palkia stood a chance of worming their way inside, but for a medium-sized 'mon like him, getting into it was easy.

After lifting the plank up with his paws and putting it back above him the best he could, Shadrach turned around and began to crawl, not even needing more than fifteen seconds to notice a similarly-sized hole at the end. Smelling the cool night air blowing in, he slid his paw under one side of the fabric, folding it over to the other side. The twinkling of stars greeted him as he pressed down his ears and poked his head out, looking for any MPs or guards on patrol. After his short assessment assured him that no one was present, he lifted his body out of the hole, stealing towards the trees that laid to the west after readjusting the camouflage blanket. He constantly kept vigilance, paranoid that a random 'mon would catch him because the base's lighting illuminated his body. His alertness was not necessary, though; with minimal effort he reached the edge of the trees, slipping into the darkness of the small grove. The small touchscreen PDA he held in front of him showed a small blue dot linked to a red dot with a long yellow line, indicating that he had a ways to go before reaching Siria. Undeterred by this prospect, the Umbreon began the walk, still watching for guards or worse, hiding Tamsus insurgents.

* * *

"I really wish I hadn't joined the military." Siria sighed as she sat up on the grass. "Worst choice of my life. Even worse than downing four X Speed pills for that all-nighter years ago." She gazed out at the night sky, picking out the bright lights of the stars. Just a day before, everything had been going perfectly. She performed most of her missions without fail, advised senior officers on military topics that were beyond incomprehensible to her peers, and even found out that she was to be promoted to Staff Sergeant by the end of the month. She had actually been content with her life!

The Latias fell on her back, putting her hands behind her head. Exhausted both mentally and physically, she had no energy left to scream or throw another tantrum. All she could do is lie there, watch the stars above her, and wonder how the hell one night could have changed her life so much. She had gone from mostly cool and collected to a blubbering mess in the space of a few hours. _At this rate I'll be discharged from Special Forces… hell, I might be discharged from the military just for being out here._ There was no incentive for going back to base; nothing good awaited her there. She could only imagine what would happen if she tried to return….

_A group of uniformed Arcanine at the gate, harsh lights above fully revealing their disgruntled faces. One in front barking menacingly, brandishing a pair of metal handcuffs at her. Levina looking down in disappointment, comical expression turned solemn by her transgression. Shadrach, face overrun by sadness and angst by her arrest. Her brother, looking at her with a face of awful pain and regret, just like when she had hit him back in their room…. _We were supposed to stick together!_ she would hear him practically shout in his head_. We were supposed to ride this out 'till the end! She promised! WE promised!_ She would avert her gaze, trying to block every sense of overwhelming remorse and betrayal that came from the three of them. And then…._

She froze as a sighing sound came from behind her. Scared out of her wits, she jumped in the air and hovered, prepared to deal with whatever threat had suddenly come up behind her. Detecting nothing in her vision, Siria slowly floated over and peeked behind the tree. The last thing she expected to see was an Umbreon leaning against the trunk, looking out at the night sky. He turned slowly towards her, slight smile on his face. "How are you doing tonight, Siria?" he asked.

"Shadrach!" the Latias yelped, feet touching the ground as she looked at him in surprise. "What are you doing here? And how did you sneak up so easily?"

"I'm an Umbreon. That's what we're supposed to do. And you looked really deep in thought, so I didn't want to interrupt you. As for the first question, I was hungry," he replied humorously, reaching up to a low-lying branch and pulling down a berry. "Though, I think a better question is, what are _you_ doing here?"

"I wanted to relax and get some fresh air." Her voice wavered as the fib passed through her lips.

"Really? I thought you usually read after training."

"Well, today's different," she said a little defensively, not willing to budge and tell him the truth.

He looked at the Latias, tossing the Pamtre Berry up and down lightly. "Different how? Enough to break regulations? Because-" Here he lowered his voice as if an eavesdropping MP were to suddenly jump up from behind and arrest him. "The courts don't take too well to AWOLs."

"I know that Shadrach."

"Then what are you doing here?"

"I told you, I wanted to relax! Arceus, do you never stop asking questions?" she yelled, giving him the impression that she was anything but relaxed. Realizing the absurdity of her lie, she couldn't help but choke, barely holding her tears back. Siria turned away from him, knowing that even glancing at the Umbreon would cause her to break down into absolute tears. She walked over to the opposite side of the tree and slumped against the coarse bark. It didn't take long for her to start sobbing softly, sad noise carried away by the cool wind flowing past her.

As she held her face in her hands, she hardly noticed another body, dark hide contrasting against her redness, sit down next to her. Shadrach opened his mouth to give her some words of reassurance, namely, "What's wrong?", but he then wisely remembered what had happened back in the dorm and reappraised not only his marginal list of comforting things to say but also his ability to calm women in general. _I've dealt with shell-shocked guys before, but a girl?_ Of course, he was startled at the sudden cry the Latias besides him gave.

"Shadrach, I'm an idiot! I'm worthless! I've done so many stupid things that I can't even count them on my fingers!" The Umbreon remained silent at her ranting. "I killed three 'mon! Then I almost got raped! And after, I couldn't save the life of another because I was too weak and useless to know how to! Now I just showed my own brother that I'm the biggest jerk in the whole world!" Anguish renewed, she let out even more tears, rubbing her eyes as she laid out her penances for him to see.

He struggled with his inner voice that told him to mention that she had only listed four things and thus could count them with her fingers, but suppressed it with some effort. "What do you mean?" Shadrach asked with much discomfort, very conscious of how similar his question was to the one that Sirius had used. Fortunately, the Latias didn't rise up in anger, instead continuing to cry.

"I'm a murderer! I killed three Tamsus 'mon right there, in cold blood! They were defenseless, too! Just sitting there, eating and talking!"

This particular claim perked his interest. "Killed? Haven't you…." Shadrach paused, searching for a better euphemism. "Taken other targets down before?"

"I know I've killed them before, but this is different! The other ones I didn't even have to listen or talk to, and they all look the same too!"

"Different? How?"

She looked up at him, unashamed about how distraught she looked. "They're just like us," she whispered, mortified by the concept. "They were talking like friends, just like how we would on a regular night. They ate soup out of a bowl, as if they were sitting at a dinner table. They seemed so… civilized. Nothing like the barbarians we thought they were! The only difference between them and us is who we fight for! It doesn't matter which side dies; we're just killing ourselves by this!" Siria put her face in her hands again.

The Umbreon sighed and smiled, an action that seemed completely incongruent to the mood she had set. "So you finally see what I see, huh?" he said softly. The Latias looked up at him, surprised that he wasn't repulsed or disgusted by her analysis. "It's been a while since I've heard those words come out of my own mouth. Just tells you how disconnected I am from others." He let out a chortle, shaking his head. "Would you mind if I told you a story?" She nodded in reply.

"A few years ago, I was fresh out of boot camp, an honored Special Forces member, one of the four in the camp who were selected from the hundreds who applied. On our first mission, I was _that_ guy, the fucking new guy in a group of five, so even with all of the training I got, the veterans didn't expect me to pull my weight. So anyways," he continued, a hint of nostalgia making its way into his voice. "Our mission was to take out several reinforced pillboxes on a ridge so that an infantry regiment taking the road below could pass without coming under fire." Siria gave him a confused look. "This was when Tamsus controlled more than a quarter of the country," he asserted, referencing the few years before when the militia was actually a powerful force. "Now they only hold a small part of the south, but I digress."

"So, our method of infiltration was air drop, like yesterday. Right off the bat, one of us gets himself caught in a tree, breaks an arm, and loses his pack on a branch. Not exactly the best morale booster, as you would imagine," he said, recognizing the somber look she gave him. "So now, even before operation, we have a casualty. That was fine, though; the mission was pretty simple. So we have five targets, listed out as Alpha, Bravo, Charlie, Delta, and Echo. Imaginative, huh? The process was really easy and really redundant: disable any guards guarding the entrance, toss two grenades in, and go in and clear the rest out."

"What we didn't know, though," he said, holding his paw up. "Each one of us only carried two frag grenades, and since one of our men lost his pack and our lead didn't really account for the ammo loss (even though he's a SF operative), we were at a loss as to what to do with the last pillbox. We couldn't just go in and attack Echo, since the 'mon inside had probably heard the explosions coming from the other four targets we destroyed. None of us had any attacks that would simply clean out a bunker, either. The only thing we had left was an incendiary grenade, just one so that we could destroy an artillery gun or another important asset if we found one. Of course, as the FNG, they made me hump the extra weight. So I suggested that we use the grenade, and the officer told me to throw it in. I regretted the idea as soon as I said it, but I didn't dare question his order, so I snuck to the side entrance, waiting for the go sign from one of the others." Siria simply sat, entranced by his story.

"So I crouch there waiting, and can't help but pick up what they're saying inside. They were talking about whether to surrender or fight their way out, wondering if it was worth their lives to fight against Special Forces troops. Then, as that Venusaur gave the go, I pulled the pin, and just as I'm about to toss, I hear some 'mon say, 'I really hope we make it to see the next day.'" The Latias gulped, knowing exactly what would happen next. Shadrach looked downwards, sighing as he said, "It was the worst thing I could hear before letting it go. And of course, there was the shout as they heard the clink, and then-" He shivered a bit, a quite uncustomary reaction of the normally calm 'mon. "The screams coming out of the pillbox sounded worse than the Banettes howling on Mount Pyre. I stood horrified as I watched flaming body after body run outside, only to get mowed down by a Nidoking standing in front with a rifle."

"Arceus," she breathed, completely forgetting about her own worries.

"It gets worse," he said in response. "After, we had to clear the room. We found one 'mon in the room, a Mightyena burnt to a crisp. He was holding a nearly toasted photo of his wife and kid. Even though I don't have a memory like yours, I can still see it as if I looked at it three seconds ago. He was standing proudly and tall, his mate was hugging him, and the kid stood up in front of both of them, waving at the camera. The realization of what I had just destroyed in itself was more than enough to mortify me, but then," Shadrach said, mask of utter disgust covering his face. "The Venusaur pissed on the corpse and proclaimed victory. It took me everything to not walk up to him and kill him right there. In fact, the Nidoking from before caught me by the scruff of my neck and told me to 'let go of it,' if you can believe that."

Siria had a revolted look on her face. "What a bastard. It must have been terrible…."

Shadrach nodded. "I spent several lengthy days with the chaplain after. I basically told him after screaming for an hour straight that the Halcyon Defense was bastardized in such a way that Giratina itself couldn't make it worse and that the military could shove it. Luckily, he stuck to the nondisclosure policy, so higher-ups have never known about the outburst, both to my pleasure and disappointment. The feeling wore off after the next few missions, though I don't know if that's a good or bad thing. Anyways, I guess my point is that you're not the only one with those feelings, so don't brood too much over it," he concluded.

"But how can you still go out there on missions and do what you do without regret or remorse? You _know_ that we're just killing our own!" she exclaimed, obviously not convinced. We're murderers! All of us!"

Shadrach adjusted himself to face her better. "Siria, I hope you don't think I lack those feelings. Before I go to sleep after a mission, I always wonder about what I did wrong and what I could have done right, if there was a way to do it but with less casualties. It's unavoidable, though. This is war. 'mon are going to die on both sides, no matter what you do or what others do. And as Special Forces, we have to be the most up front about the business and see the worst of it all. But at the end, I find solace in the fact that I'm working to put an end to this conflict so that no more can die needlessly, so that there's no more killing or bloodshed. I just put faith in our higher ups-" He let out a derisive snort. "And hope that their orders are so that we can end the Tamsus insurgency and bring peace back again."

"So you're basically fighting for peace… isn't that like having sex for virginity?" She opted to substitute a more politically correct term for the usual curse.

He looked at the Latias' skepticism-ridden face. "How else are you going to do it? Should our ancestors have just dropped our arms for the country of Mirunas when they invaded centuries ago? How about when we had to intervene when Kanto declared independence from the other three states and started a war against them? It would be nice if we could solve everything through talking, but that only happens in a perfect world."

She sighed and looked out at the blackness of the night. "I guess if you put it that way…." Something still bugged her about his explanation, but she couldn't put her finger on it. Was it their being forced into fighting? The necessity of it all?

The Umbreon interrupted her thoughts. "Sorry if that didn't answer all of your questions. It certainly doesn't answer mine, but I doubt any explanation will. Anyways, Siria… would you care to tell me what happened last night?" She looked at him. "Of course, I'm perfectly fine if you don't want to," he quickly added, not wanting to spark her ire again.

"No, it's best if I get it out now," she replied, almost calm demeanor receding as the memories resurfaced. "I don't want to sit on it any longer than I have already. It's just going to be a burden." The dragon tried to keep her voice steady as she began to recite her story. "It all started with…."

* * *

By the end of her tale, Siria had lost whatever composure she had earlier, crying loudly. "And so- he just- he just died! Right there! The helo got there right when I lost him!" Shadrach glanced away, not knowing what he could say that would comfort her. Arceus, and he thought _his_ experience was bad….

"That's not even the worst part! The worst part is, I couldn't do anything! If I was better, if I was useful, then… then…" she whispered, lowering her pitch. "Wyatt would be alive…." Then her voice rose to nearly a scream again. "I had not one, but two chances to save him! I had two Arceus-damn chances, and I couldn't use them because I'm useless! Because I'm not as good as Sirius is!"

Shadrach blinked in surprise at her mentioning the Latios. "As good as Sirius?" he repeated.

The Latias continued her rant. "He's everything that I'm not! He can actually fight! He can stow his mercy away and kill when he needs to! He can even heal people better than anyone I know! He does it even better than me, and I know Wish! If I was Sirius, I would have killed the Glaceon before going to help Wyatt! If I was Sirius, I would have been able to heal Wyatt so he wouldn't have died! If I was Sirius, I wouldn't have yelled at my sibling and ran away! If I was Sirius, we wouldn't even be having this discussion!" She punched the ground, not willing to show the Umbreon a futile Dragon Claw attempt. "He probably hates me," she mumbled, done screaming her lungs out. "I blamed him for something that was all my fault and even slapped him for it. Why should I go back? He's probably going to give me the cold shoulder and tell me to go away. I deserve it, too." Siria looked down at the ground, letting her tears fall to the grass.

"That's ridiculous. He wouldn't do that," the dark-type reassured her.

"What's so ridiculous about it? You would do the same if your sister did that to you, wouldn't you?"

He hummed. "I would consider it," he said, evoking a sense of hurt from the Latias. "But I would eventually forgive her. I have brothers, and we've had stuff like this happen between us before. Sure, it wasn't a result of having someone _killed_, but I can empathize." An flash of regret passed on his face as he remembered Kenneth. "Besides, I talked with Sirius before coming here. He's really sorry for what he did to you, and he's fully willing to apologize."

Siria looked at him, pain still in her eyes. "I'm the one who should be apologizing, not him…."

"Then you can tell him that when we go back."

"Shadrach, don't you get it? How can I meet him face to face after telling him all of those things? If I try, I'll probably just run away again, like before! Just because I'm so damn weak…." Her voice cracked as she uttered the last sentence.

The Umbreon looked humored. "Don't kid yourself. Siria, how do you think you got into Special Forces? Did they pick you because you're weak?"

"No…."

"Did they train you nearly twenty-four seven because they wanted to make you weaker?"

"No…."

"Do they send you to go on missions because you're weak?

"No…."

Shadrach smiled in triumph. "So what makes you think you're weak? Those are all the signs of a good soldier, something that the military severely lacks."

"It's not that!" she whined. "Everything may look good on paper, but how do I compare to other SF soldiers? Like my brother? Or Levina? They probably laugh at me behind my back. Maybe even you do! You're probably judging me right here because I'm spilling my guts out to you, thinking of telling me to stuff all of my feelings and get on with it! Who knows what goes on behind that stone face of yours?" With renewed anguish, she began to cry again.

"That's not true," he countered. "I can't really speak for Levina, but Sirius definitely wants you to get better. Doesn't he train you in his spare time? That's more than enough to show that he wants to help." The Latias looked up as he made the extremely simple but incredibly logical connection for her. "You also have skills that he doesn't, like psychic-based attacks and good stealth form. You may not be able to do some of the things he does, but it works both ways. Not to mention you're not a giant flirt and a pervert in general," he added, mentioning some of Sirius' less savory traits. "As for me, I think you're good at what you do! I told you before, I went through the exact same thing you are right now. It's certainly better to come out now than shove all of those feelings to the back of your head, just to have them make you a psychological wreck later on. Not to mention you're more than just a soldier to me." The Latias turned to look at him as an uncharacteristic warmth worked its way into his voice. "Siria, you're a very good friend, and I'd hate to see you go. I mean it." Shadrach truncated the _other_ thing besides a friend he felt she was to him, figuring that now wasn't the best of times to bring it up.

His admission was more than enough to spark a sense of happiness in her eyes as she looked into his. "R-really?" she choked, lingering wisps of disbelief slowly leaving her voice.

"Yes, really." The Umbreon grinned at her. "You're not what you think you are. You're far better than that. Now, c'mon, get up." He extended a paw outwards to the sitting dragon. She looked at it hesitantly, as if her were tricking her. After a pause, she then took his offer, grasping it tightly. Shadrach pulled her up and she followed, her strong legs doing most of the work for him. The thing he didn't expect, though, was for Siria to let the kinetic energy carry her body right into his arms and rest her head against his chest. He stiffened at this first contact, rational side quite alarmed that a girl was so close to him (not to mention that he was most likely in violation of more than a few military policies), but honestly, he hardly cared in the end. Official policy be damned; there were more important things than that, like the Latias who was crying on him. Seeking to comfort her, he wrapped his arms around her back, instinctively feeling that it was the right thing to do.

"Shadrach. Th- thank you. You're a good friend. A very good friend," she reciprocated, sobbing out the words between hiccups. "Can you promise me something?"

"What is it?" he asked, half-filled with desire to fulfill her wish and half-filled with dread as he wondered if he would be able to deliver on it.

"Don't leave me."

"What?" He froze, subconsciously knowing exactly what the otherwise completely innocuous statement implied after hearing her tone of voice. The presence inside his head bristled at it, but the Umbreon shoved it down again.

She buried her head deeper into his chest. "Don't- don't leave me," she cried. Shadrach tensed up even more, all doubts of what she meant completely obliterated by the even more forceful request. A war raged behind his eyes, his innate rationality jousting against newfound emotion.

_It makes no sense for you to have a relationship with her! What do you think this will do to future combat missions? You will be inextricably tied with her; her casualty will only drive you to do irrational things! And what happens if she gets killed? Think for a minute, please._

_But what happens if you reject her? She'll become a shell again, desolate and insecure. That's far worse than having two competent and healthy soldiers working together. Hell, they'll even have near-perfect resonance and communications, something that commanders have consistently sought but failed to obtain!_

_Yes, but-_

"I promise," the Umbreon murmured to her, cutting off any protest his rationale could raise. "I promise that I won't leave you." His body calmed, tensed muscles relaxing as he continued to hold her. _Screw it. If this is how the chips fall, then so be it. _He could virtually hear his logic sigh exasperatedly in disappointment, but he didn't care.

The two figures stood in embrace on the top of the hill under the rising moon, neither willing to let the other go.

* * *

After giving the knock the Lucario had shown him, Shadrach slowly pushed the wooden plank to the left, trying his best to be as quiet as possible. Poking his head out, he saw the familiar base, a bustling hive of work even at twenty-three hundred. There were no guards in sight, and any of the 'mon who were there were distracted with other tasks, such as a Floatzel preoccupied with machining a set of steel treads back onto a tank.

"It's clear, Siria. Go first," he told the Latias behind him. She nodded and wormed her way past him, thin frame eliminating whatever challenges that could have arisen from the task. Normally, she probably could have flown back in without being noticed, but after several mortar attacks from Tamsus soldiers from some distance away only a week ago, the forward operations base had stepped up its aerial surveillance and anti-air network. Breaking the invisible web was a perfect recipe for getting caught and court-martialed.

Shadrach could only make out a dark blue T-shirt and black track pants leaving the tunnel, assuring him that the chances of her being seen were slim as she activated her invisibility. He couldn't help but note that she had chosen auspiciously colored clothing. As the Umbreon heard the last of her scampering, he followed her up, sliding the plank back into its original configuration. He looked for a red body in the slightly busy entrance, but he found none… there! The same set of clothing making its way along a relatively obscure path back to their living quarters. It was a good plan; for some strange reason, Special Forces members were given different colored casual shirts than the normal light brown one, meaning that she would stick out in what seemed to be a sea of tan shirts and camouflage fatigues. Wearing a set of camo himself, Shadrach had a little less to fear as he began walking his way back to the dorm.

"Hey," a voice called behind him. He felt his blood run cold, wondering if he had been caught in the middle of his activities. After turning around, though, he only saw the same Lucario from before. "So, how did it go?" James asked.

"Excellently," the Umbeon replied, grinning at him.

He smiled back "Certainly seems like it. She seems like a nice gal, so treat her with respect. You hear?" The fighting-type's insight startled Shadrach for a minute as he forgot that not only did the Lucario have access to others' Aura but also that he was manning the guard tower at the time of their return.

"Five by five," he assured, standing at full attention and saluting.

He saluted back and chuckled. "Never had a fancy Special Forces member salute a regular Army 'mon like me before. Anyways, I think you'd better get going before the MPs start knocking. Sure, it's random, but it might be yours that they check. Good night…?" He paused, realizing that he'd never gotten a name.

"It's Shadrach. Sergeant Shadrach. Good night to you too, James."

The Lucario grimaced. "Good night by staying up there 'till oh-dark hundred hours, certainly. Don't let anyone hear I was complaining," he requested of the dark-type. "See you around, Shadrach." James climbed back up the ladder he descended from, grumbling about what sadist could have possibly put him on that shift.

Laughing in amusement, the Umbreon turned the other way, returning to his quarters and hoping fervently that inspections hadn't started yet.

As he approached his room, he saw a dragon sitting on the concrete steps before the door. A red and white dragon, to be specific.

"Siria?" he asked, recognizing her face.

She looked up at him, a slight tinge of red working its way into the white areas of her face. "Oh, Shadrach."

"What are you doing out here? Hopefully no MPs came by yet," the Umbreon said, glancing around.

"I was waiting for you, that's all."

"And now I'm here. Shall we go in together?" He walked up the steps, about to touch the knob….

"Wait!" the Latias called. She stood up behind him. The dark-type turned around, quizzical expression on his face. "I just…" she mumbled, so abashed and shy that she nearly forgot what she was going to say. "I just wanted to say thanks for earlier…."

Shadrach smiled at her. "No problem, Siria, that's what- mmmph!" He was interrupted mid-sentence when the dragon stood on her tip-toes and leaned in to plant a kiss on his muzzle. As he stood there stupidly, his eyes widened as he figured out what was happening. The Umbreon could swear that he was suffocating, but he didn't dare recoil; who knew what new fresh hell he could unleash from offending her? All he could do was return the favor, inexperienced at it as he was….

And just like that, it was done. As the Latias broke off the kiss, Shadrach quickly took a step back and straightened up, almost tripping over his own feet as he felt a sudden warmth run up his face. Siria was in a similar position, looking downwards as she blushed with sheer embarrassment. Neither of them dared to break the covenant of silence that hung in the air between them.

"Sorry!" the Latias suddenly exclaimed, ears nearly matching the color of her hide. "I-I don't know what got into me! Honest! I just thought that because you were my boyfr-" She nearly choked on her own words, realizing what she was about to say.

"No, it's fine!" an equally flustered Shadrach replied, trying to hide his incredible embarrassment. "I know what you mean!"

"Good! W-well," she stammered, still at a loss for words. "Good night!" And with that she dove past him for the door, opening and closing it with such speed that the Umbreon hardly saw more than a red blur. He simply stood there, nonplussed and utterly at a loss as to what had just occurred.

"Yo." An unfamiliar voice jarred his daydreaming. Looking to the side, he saw an Arcanine watching him. The first thing he thought was how probable it was that she had seen the two of them together. The second thing he thought was how long it would take him to get a general discharge.

"Yes?" he asked shakily, trying his best not to seem suspicious.

"Twenty-three hundred. Lights out for 'mon not on night patrol." The fire-type motioned towards her watch.

Turning to the door, he halted when he heard her say something else. "Oh, and also, try to keep it in your pants."

He was certain that if he were a Charizard, his tail flame would have set the entire building on fire. "Say what?" he yelped, expecting her to suddenly whip out a pair of handcuffs.

"You're lucky I had to raise three teens. Otherwise, I would probably be writing you up right now," she said, putting a paw to her face. Shadrach calmed a bit, though his body definitely didn't show it. "Although we're in the military and there's a 'no fraternization' policy (why they still implemented mixed gender living quarters in conjunction with it is beyond any understandable logic), I honestly don't see how they plan on stowing horny guys away for months at a time, so stuff like what you two did kind of slides." The Umbreon thought that his face would catch on fire from embarrassment as she implied something that hadn't even crossed his mind. "I've seen this happen more times than I needed to. So, for the sake of your job and mine, please don't try to screw her in the middle of the night. It would make both of our lives far more stressful if you did. You two get kicked out for misconduct, I have to write reports and get grilled for not picking up on it earlier, etcetera, etcetera. Got it?"

"I wouldn't do that!" Shadrach contended, mortified at the suggestion of him doing… that to her. Hell, he didn't even _know_ he was in an actual relationship until a few minutes ago!

She snorted. "Yeah, that's what they all say. Just wait for a few weeks. I told you, I have three kids! Anyways, lights out, stay in your own bed. Ok?"

Both shocked and dazed, the Umbreon only nodded his head in response to her admonishment.

"Good night," the Arcanine cheerfully told him as if nothing had transpired between them. She left the front of their housing unit, waving a flashlight in front of her and continuing her nightly rounds. Shadrach, mouth agape, watched her round the corner and disappear from sight. He didn't stand staring there, for the door opened again. The Umbreon nearly jumped, expecting Siria to approach him again.

"Hey, are you just going to stand out there all night?" Levina asked, crossing her arms and leaning against the metal doorframe. "Get back in here, it's o dark o'clock." As Shadrach passed her, she couldn't help but comment, "Why is your face so red?"

"No reason," he mumbled, facing downwards so that she couldn't get a second look.

She hummed. "If I remember correctly, Siria came through here a few minutes ago and ran straight into the bathroom. I wonder…" the Ampharos mused in mock confusion.

He sighed and rolled his eyes at her. "Don't go there, please."

"Oh, I get it! Could there be something between you and-"

"Please?"

She huffed, slightly disgruntled that he had shot her down so quickly. "Fine, fine. I'll stop because tonight's an unusual night. And in more ways than one…." Her voice lilted.

"Levina," the Umbreon said a little more firmly this time. The electric-type fell quiet, knowing that she was quite close to bringing out his bad side. "Anyways, what happened to Sirius?" He looked at the slumbering dragon on the cot.

"Oh, him? Well, we talked a little bit, and I managed to get him out of his depressive spin! Although I don't know if it'll come back tomorrow morning…." She also glanced at him with concern. "Actually," she confessed, vibrant tone going down a few notches "He's actually a decent 'mon under all of that perviness and flirting crap."

"How so?"

Levina looked back at the Umbreon. "Well, I could just tell you, but don't you think it'd be better for him to show? Actions certainly do speak louder than words."

Shadrach nodded. "True, true." He watched as the Ampharos clambered up the top bunk, opening a small-screened DVD player. "Really, Levina? It's lights out."

She snorted. "Pft, as if they actually care about what we do after then. It's not the first time I did this. Technically we're free to do whatever whenever; you of all people know that it's more of a suggestion than anything else. Now c'mon, what movie do you want to see? I didn't even get to watch one tonight because of that crazy Latios." Levina motioned towards Sirius.

"I'm tired as is. I'll probably just change out and shower tomorrow morning." The Ampharos wrinkled her nose at him. "It's only because Siria's in there right now, I swear!"

"There's a problem going in after her?"

"All of the hot water's gone."

She looked up from the bright screen, amused by his response. "All of the showers are constantly heated. No way in hell that excuse will work on me. Now, come on, tell me! Or do I have to guess? I promise I'll make them good." The electric-type grinned widely at him.

Having changed out of his fatigues when she wasn't looking, Shadrach now wore a shirt and a pair of shorts. "Arceus, Levina, you're getting as bad as Sirius, and that's saying something," he groaned, getting into the bed under hers.

"No, that's not possible," she responded. "If I was as bad as Sirius I would be making cracks as to how much money I would be getting from bets because you two hooked up far later than anyone else expected."

"You what?" Shadrach exclaimed, blood rushing to his face once more.

"Kidding, kidding! Of course Mr. Serious wouldn't catch the sarcasm," Levina said in an airy voice. "Though I really wouldn't put it past him to do something like that…." She put on a pair of headphones as she put a disc in the DVD player, knowing how valuable sleep was to many Special Forces 'mon.

The Umbreon turned to face the wall, pulling the sheets up to his chest and grumbling. "Good night, Levina."

"Night."

As the Ampharos' full-feature movie began, Shadrach laid still on his side, reflecting on the events of the night. So he caught up with her after a ton of walking and told her a little bit of his history to calm her down. Then Siria told hers in turn and cried, starting what he assumed to be a relationship. Then they snuck back on base, and then when he returned to the dorm she stood up when he was talking and…. He flushed as he remembered the kiss the Latias gave him. The rationale behind it was completely illogical, but it felt so… right to him.

Absolutely tired from the day's events, he fell asleep before he could further evaluate his feelings for her, promising to himself that he would deal with it in the morning.

* * *

For those of you who hate this wishy-washy stuff, I swear we're almost done with it! Thanks for reading, and reviews haven't hurt anyone (physically) ...yet. Also for those physics pedants out there, I know that Siria's "deceleration" in the beginning of the chapter is technically just an equally rapid acceleration in an opposite direction, so there :P


	14. A Return to Normalcy

So, lots of stuff happens. A moderate amount of action (Gala :P), some background info, more of Sirius' crazy antics, and other things as well.

Thanks to hironada and Gala for reviewing!

Chapter 14: A Return to Normalcy

A Nidorina, a Ninetales, a Girafarig, and a Raichu all ran down a carpeted hallway, careening left to hug the wall and form a line as they stacked up besides a thin wooden door. All of them were fully outfitted in battle gear and fatigues, sweat running down their hardened faces as they checked their combat readiness. The poison-type and the psychic-type held black, sleek, compact submachine guns with suppressors attached to the barrels. The other two 'mon didn't need rifles, inherent special attacks trumping any range weapon they could use.

"How many tangos? Hostages?" the Raichu asked the Girafarig, moderating his voice so that any potential enemies behind the door wouldn't hear him.

"Four tangos, one hostage," he listed emotionlessly, shouldering his gun. The electric rat nodded in response, cheek pouches letting out a few sparks. Looking at the other three, the Raichu decided that everybody was ready for the charge. He squeezed the Girafarig's shoulder, who squeezed the Ninetale's in response.

Feeling this, she deftly drew a long, black flash-bang grenade from the backpack of the Nidorina in front of her and pulled the pin, being sure to keep her paw firmly pressed on the striker lever as to not have it explode in her face. After taking the three-fourths of a second to execute this action, the fire-type moved to the other end of the door, not making a sound as she virtually glided on the carpet. After taking up her position, she nodded at the Nidorina. Receiving the tacit command, the poison-type put a paw on the knob of the door and opened it slightly, just enough for the Ninetales to toss the grenade into the room. It then closed on its own accord, hydraulic mechanism sparing the four 'mon the unforgiving effects of the detonation.

BANG.

With the loud sound of the stun grenade's explosion and the flash of bright light that shone from under the door, the Nidorina shouldered her weapon and opened the door wide, giving the enemies guarding a helpless Latias only a fleeting glance before looking to the right of the room. She kept the fire discipline Special Forces training had drilled into her so much, knowing that engaging those in front of her right then would end up getting all of them killed. Sweeping the gun down her side of the room, she saw that there were two tangos in the corner waiting to ambush the team. "Right contact!" she yelled, not hesitating for even a millisecond as she engaged them, letting out round after round with clean pulls of the trigger. The rifle hardly clicked with each shot, sliding steel bolt the only thing that could be heard as the suppressor captured the otherwise noisy expelled gasses that followed the subsonic rounds' passage out of the barrel.

Maw agape, the Ninetales burst in on the heels of her partner, ready with the beginning wisps of a Flamethrower attack. Instead of looking to where the Nidorina was, she shifted her gaze to the left corner, sweeping from there to the center of the room and yelling, "Left clear!" as she found no enemies to be had. Like the poison-type, she also saw the two others behind the sitting Latias, but trusted the job of attacking them to her other partners who were about to enter. She kept the fire charged in her mouth in case she needed to supplement their attack, but if her input was actually required, then everything had already gone to hell.

The Girafarig, submachine gun at the ready, entered and stood in the middle of the room while the fire-type was doing her sweep. "Center contact!" Keeping eye contact with said enemies, he immediately opened fire on the left tango, bullets whizzing barely above the Latias' head. Then, right as the psychic-type switched from the first enemy to the second, the Raichu came up from behind him, leaping to the psychic-type's left and adding a pre-charged Thunderbolt to the lead already flying into the middle of the room.

All of this occurred in the space of less than two seconds. As the tinkling of brass cartridges on the ground filled the air, the Nidorina scanned the entire room to see if there were any tangos left standing. Seeing none, she clicked the safety on her rifle and shouted, "Right clear! All clear! One up!" to confirm that there were no enemies remaining and that she was still ready to go.

"Two up!" the Ninetales followed.

"Three up!"

"Four up!

As the Special Forces 'mon did their checks, the dragon stared straight, reactionless face remaining the same as she appeared to not even have noticed what had just happened around her. She hummed and released the handcuffs on her wrists, using psychic power to disengage the springs that held the locking mechanisms in place. After freeing herself, the Latias stood up, inspecting the steel plates above her shoulders.

"A decent performance," Siria enunciated, tracing a finger on a rectangular target that had several neat holes in it. All of the shots were focused squarely on a head painted on the metal. She then looked at the soldiers, turning her head from left to right. After nodding at the Nidorina, her critical gaze fell on the Girafarig. "Abel! Where were you when you started firing?"

"In the middle, sir." He motioned to his current position.

She nodded again. "Gary! What about you?"

The Raichu straightened up. "I flanked to Abel's left, sir."

"What's wrong with this picture, Abel?" She stared at him, expecting a very good answer.

"Sir, I did not move in a position so that Gary could get a clean shot at the enemy without taking extra movements," he analyzed, meeting her eye to eye. If he had looked downwards, no amount of justification would have been enough to get him out of fifty push-ups.

Satisfied, Siria glanced at the targets behind her. "You're right. What would your correct action have been?"

"I would have flanked left so that I could engage the left target while Gary engaged the right simultaneously."

"Correct. Now, any of you, do you think you completed this attack successfully?"

All four of them looked at each other, not knowing what reply to give despite her pointing out the obvious flaw; there were so many things that factored in that could have trumped it, and Abel was an incredibly quick shot….

"Yes?" the Raichu half-answered, half-asked.

"Is that a question or an answer?" she barked, displeased with his response. "Are you in Special Forces or not?" _And Arceus, what did they teach you in Basic… _she withheld as the third response tried to struggle its way past her lips.

"Sir, yes, sir!" He nearly saluted, familiar phrase sorely reminding him of his tyrannical Drill Instructor (coincidentally, his DI was a Tyranitar).

Siria gave the four of them another glance. "Well, you're wrong! I saw Abel spend three rounds on each target. Now imagine if both of them were 'mon holding guns to my head. When Abel took down the first one, he couldn't have spent less than half a second on firing the shots, seeing that his gun's on semiauto. In that time, the other could have easily put a bullet through my head because Gary wasn't there in time for his attack! Every millisecond is precious in CQB! Granted, Tia did keep her attack at the ready and Alicia did well with the other two," she complimented, motioning towards the dummies in the corner. "If she hadn't, all four of you would either be dead or taken as additional hostages. However, that doesn't change anything. I am still dead; therefore, this attempt is a failure! Try again!" She waved a hand at them, telling them to go back out the door they came in. All of them left one by one, having the presence of mind not to rib the Girafarig for his mistake.

_Well, not until after training ends, at least._ Siria sighed as she sat back down on the chair. Even though they've already been though the hell known as SF training back home, apparently there were a few flaws that still needed to be polished in the fresh, newly arrived soldiers. At least she could trust them with live rounds; blanks always took the adrenaline and feel out of an exercise, and if one of them royally screwed up, she could just Protect against the stray bullet.

The door opened slightly again, just like the last time it had. The Latias tensed up, preparing to erect a Protect barrier to protect herself from the adverse effects of the stun grenade they always threw in before clearing the room. However, as the door closed, she noticed that there was no black object bouncing off the wall and landing at her feet. _Wait, why didn't they-_

BANG.

She looked up to see a bright, fleeting flare of white light come from the crack under the door. Then, she heard the sound of muffled shouting combined with a body colliding with the thin wall.

Slightly alarmed but having a faint suspicion of what happened, she opened the door and looked out into the hallway. The red dragon put a hand to her face as she saw Gary slumped against the wall, eyes crossed from the intense light the fiery magnesium grenade charge gave off for just a second. The others were in a bit better shape: Alicia let out a roar of laughter, holding her head at regular intervals to relieve her starting headache; and Abel tended to the Raichu, trying to get him to stand back up. A Ninetales stood next to the door away from them, bright red glow growing on her otherwise vanilla face as she looked down in embarrassment.

"Tia, did you- did you _miss_?" The Latias gaped at her, completely dropping the tough-'mon demeanor she had earlier. The fire-type nodded, silently holding up the ring and pin on her paw for Siria to see. "Oh 'mon," she giggled, unable to contain her laughter any longer. "If word gets out about this, you're going to become the laughingstock of Special Forces for the next year!" This only made the Ninetales blush even harder in response.

"Whoa, what happened?" Entering through a side door, Levina walked down the hall of the training facility, seeing the disabled Raichu slumped against the wall. Tia hastily threw away the incriminating metal that identified her as the source of the problem.

Siria tried to keep a straight face. "He tripped, that's all."

"He tripped," the Ampharos repeated with a tone of disbelief.

"Yes, he tripped." She could hardly contain the laughter in her voice. _Arceus, poker faces are hard!_

Levina looked at the five of them oddly, trying to figure out what actually happened. Luckily, the Latias was interposed between her and Tia, so much of what the electric-type could have concluded was avoided. "Eh, whatever. Siria, 'the 'mon' wants to talk to you. Now." She narrowed her eyes.

"'The 'mon'? About what?"

"You think he'd tell me? Probably to use you as a stress ball. Maybe he wants to demote you back to corporal," she replied with trademark sarcasm. "No offense!" the electric-type added as Abel gave her a stoic stare.

Siria protested, "We're not done with this yet, Levina." The four behind her looked anything _but_ eager to continue training, having already been through the harrowing flash-bang incident.

"Oh c'mon, Siria, they've already been through this five hours straight! Can't you cut them some slack?" The Amphraros put on a simpering look, trying to coax Siria into leaving.

"My DI pushed us for fourteen hours one time," she shot back, causing the other 'mon to cringe. "If you think I'm going to go easy-"

Levina shrugged. "Ok, fine, forget that. What about the fact that it's sixteen-hundred and that we're all officially off duty?"

She gave her a surprised look, then scowled. "Already? Hmph… fine, fine! You guys can go." Elated, they weaved their way around the two higher-ups, each giving Levina a grateful look as they passed. After all of them were gone, the Latias hissed, "You enjoyed that, and you know it."

"Of course I did! It's funny to tease you when you're in teacher mode because you're so up front and pushy about everything, hardly like the shy Siria back in the dorms! Oh, and we should get going now. Who knows what kind of hell he'll give me if you're late?" She began to walk out, leaving Siria to catch up with her.

"He made you an escort?" she asked. As they opened the door, she had to block out the sun with her hand for an instant, eyes still adapted to the dim lighting of the facility's room. _And has it really been five hours?_

Levina nodded emphatically. "Yep. I'm guessing that what he wants from you is urgent. Maybe he really, really needs someone to tear apart, and he picked your name at random."

"Can't you be a _little_ bit more comforting about this?"

"Sorry, my care cup is empty." She smirked at the Latias. "Oh, also, did you make stuff up with Sirius yet?"

Her question evoked a sigh out of Siria, concerned expression turning into one of sadness. "No, I haven't yet… I really wanted to this morning, but he was gone already. I hope he's not brooding over it…." Then she stopped. "Wait, how do you know about this?" she asked with reasonable suspicion.

"Oh, a little bird told me."

"A little bi- you know what, never mind. You'll never tell me who." The red dragon huffed at her Ampharos partner.

After walking a little further, the two of them halted in front of a stocky building, cracked dark red brick walls holding up a half-concrete, half-wooden roof. His office was quite close to the suburban warfare practice facilities, much to the pleasure of COs and the ire of those who toiled under them. "Anyways, we're here. See ya!" With that, the electric-type sauntered away, heading to the recreational facility.

"Wait, where are you going?"

"You think I'm really going to stick around for _him_?" she called back. "Screw that! I have some pool games to win!"

Sighing, the Latias put her hand on the door, contemplating if she should actually go inside. Sure, she often met with higher officers, but she'd only met who all the 'mon called 'the 'mon' only a fleeting few times, mostly in terms of "Yes, sir," or "I understand, sir." And now he needed her for something "urgent?" She couldn't help but shiver a bit as she recalled all of the rumors she'd heard about him. Some said he used to be a DI who was so harsh that his entire band of recruits cooked up a plan to murder him. According to legend, he had found out about their scheme and then made them run up Mount Chimney for five hours straight, all the while attacking them with Dragon Rushes and screaming about how pathetically they executed their attack. Others claimed that he was never in the DFAC because he feasted not on food but instead on the anguish of the many, many soldiers who put in promotion packets but failed to actually receive higher ranks. In the past, she had passed off those stories simply as made-up tales, but all of those rumors seemed to become truer and truer as she opened the door and walked inside.

The Clefairy secretary looked up at her. "Are you Sergeant Siria?" he asked.

"Yes, I am." A hint of fear made its way into her voice.

"Colonel Lynch will arrive in a few minutes. He has instructed me to tell you that you are welcome to have a seat in his office." The pink 'mon went back to typing at his computer.

_That name certainly doesn't help…._ Feeling nervous, she queried, "May I sit out here until he arrives?"

"I don't recall him giving you an option, Sergeant." He pointed towards a wooden door ornamented with a small carving of a Rayquaza. Its serpentine tail seemed to swish, as if beckoning her to come inside. She squirmed at the nearly-condescending voice of the secretary as she walked over to the door. Taking a breath, she opened it and went inside.

As the door closed behind her, Siria couldn't help but let out a small gasp. She had expected to see a small, sterile environment with a steel desk in the middle, possibly with a stack of applications with a giant "REJECTED" stamp on each one on top. What she saw, though, was completely different.

The first thing she noticed was a painting that took up at least a third of the wall hanged over a large black leather chair. On the aged parchment, a great Groudon did battle with a Kyogre, the red beast standing on a giant of mound of land cracking under the sheer weight of the 'mon. The lord of the ocean was almost completely submerged in a body of raging water, the sea threatening to overtake the Groudon's domain by crashing against his fortification. The Kyogre's maw was spread wide open, bright blue sphere forming behind its ferocious, jagged teeth. Its polar opposite obviously had taken note of the impending attack, equally brilliant green energy building within its own mouth in response. Just as how the deities warred against each other, shining sun and black clouds too fought for control of the skies, each one hovering over its master and laying claim to whatever parts of the sky the other neglected. Far above them flew a small green snake-like body Siria recognized as a Rayquaza, appearing to be watching but not intervening in the two 'mons' affairs. She noticed that the painstaking time the artist took in each brushstroke must have been great. The Latias could virtually feel the heat of the sun, the mist and chill of the crashing waves, and the hate that brought the two together in their clash.

Wanting to inspect the rest of the room, she managed to tear her eyes away from the magnificently done painting, looking at the desk that sat in front of it. A small yet easily noticeable ornate oak plaque read "Colonel Stanford Lynch" in great golden letters, flanked to both the left and right by… a silver imprinted Latios and Latias pair? The latter looked nothing like her, taking a traditional jet plane-like form unlike her own. Behind the title plate was a neat, organized table. A steel holder held several fancy and apparently expensive fountain pens, most likely placed there to service the legal notepad on the center of the desk. The paper had tidy, clean cursive writing, but it was far too small for Siria to read as she sat in one of the cushy chairs in front of the table. It certainly didn't seem like notes for yelling at fresh recruits or denying all of his soldiers' promotions, though.

However, the dragon just couldn't keep still, intensely intrigued by the sheer elaborateness of the room. She got up and wandered to a wooden cabinet against the left wall behind his desk, peering at its contents though the glass. Inside laid many, many small translucent jars of dirt. One had "Kanto" scrawled on it, another, "Johto," a third, "Hoenn," a forth, "Sinnoh," a fifth, "Orre" …as the names progressed she swore she counted at least forty different containers inside the cupboard.

Walking to the right, she found its twin, another cabinet holding far different items. As she again looked inside, she saw many, many elegant wooden carvings of Pokemon she had seen only in children's story books and history texts. A trio of elemental birds was in front of a much larger, more powerful-looking Lugia, all of their wings spread wide in pride. Above the flying-types, she found a similar trio, except that they were the legendary dogs, all of them seeming to look reverently at a Ho-Oh who returned their gazes in a fatherly fashion. On another shelf, she found a set of the 'mon she witnessed in the painting: Kyogre, Groudon, and Rayquaza arranged in a triangle, with the green dragon in the middle of the two. A Latios and Latias sat to their left and right, respectively, looking at not the legendaries but instead at each other. Siria couldn't help but blush slightly at them, feeling honored that someone decided to put so much time into rendering a member of her species. On a shelf below that, she saw Palkia, Dialga, and Giratina organized in a similar fashion. The three pixies Azelf, Mespirit, and Uxie made a triangle that seemed inverted to the one the rulers of space, time, and the Distortion created, each psychic being sitting equidistantly from two dragons. Arceus, the god and creator of them all, postured powerfully in the middle, two hooves raised upwards as it reared on its back legs. And on yet another shelf were randomly assorted ones; a Mew, a Celebi, a Jirachi, a Shaymin, a Deoxys, and a few others that didn't quite seem to fit the theme of the other sets. What caught her attention most of all, though, was the fact that the figures were made not in a morph-like form, but instead in their original states as depicted in the texts of yore. She did not know why they were stylized like this, but it intrigued her nonetheless.

"Enjoying my collection, huh?" A baritone voice came from behind her.

The Latias spun around so quickly that she saw black spots for a moment. Hastily regaining her composure, she stood at full attention, saluting whoever had just come in the room. "R-reporting for duty, Colonel Lynch, sir!" she exclaimed, already regretting the stammer in her first word. As she regained complete control of her vision, she could make out who had asked her the question.

The 'mon who stood in front of her was a Salamence dressed in fatigues not unlike hers. The only difference between their dresses was the silhouette of a Ho-Oh pinned on a lapel of his fatigues, saying far more than the several meager chevrons pinned to Siria's. Old yet strikingly vibrant yellow eyes looked back into her own, as if they were reading her every thought. Although the colonel was noticeably aged, Siria couldn't help but notice that his muscles bulged slightly out of his dress, indicating that he was still more fit than some regular Army 'mon.

"At ease, Sergeant Siria. At ease." He chuckled at her formality as she spaced her feet to her shoulders' width and folded her arms behind her back. "Take a seat, please. It would be bad convention for me not to offer." He extended a claw towards the front of his desk. She did so, returning from behind his desk to sit in the chair she had first sat in. As the Latias made herself comfortable, the Salamence also strode to his leather chair, slowly and deliberately setting himself down on it. She looked downwards, not knowing if this Colonel Lynch was going to chew her out for what any respectable 'mon would consider a breach of privacy.

He took out a folder, looking over her profile for the umpteenth time. "Now, Siria, I'm sure that you're wondering why I, 'the 'mon,' eater of raw recruits, CO souls, and many other things, am calling you here today." She nodded tightly, now definitely sure that all of the stories about him were true. He smiled at this and said, "Relax a bit. Would I be right in assuming that you're thinking about all of the rumors about me being passed around here?" The Latias froze at this rather direct question, wanting to say "yes" to be completely honest but also wanting to say "no" so that she would not automatically become one of his "Most Wanted."

"Well?" She still gave no response, instead choosing to look at him. Then, to her utter surprise and fear, his once-amiable face scrunched up in absolute anger as he leaned over the desk, staring straight into her face. "This Colonel is asking you a question, Sergeant Siria!" he growled menacingly, slamming his claws down on the wood and baring a few of his fangs at the Latias.

"Yes! I mean, yes, sir!" she returned out of sheer fright, acting on reflex more than anything else. _Oh Arceus, what if that was the wrong answer?_

She was astonished to see him laugh and beam at her. "Works every time! Trust me, you aren't the first 'mon to have that complex, and you certainly won't be the last. Anyways, since I don't feel that I'm the tyrant and dictator that everybody portrays me as, I'll let you question me before we get on topic (we both have time to burn). Any questions!"

Still jittery, she managed to squeak, "Are the rumors true?" As his face darkened slightly, she cowered, believing that it was the wrong question to ask. Then she relaxed as he grinned.

"No, they're not. If you look at the raw numbers, I actually put through promotions for more 'mon than any other Colonel! Interesting, huh? As for eating, I actually do eat real food. Just not at regular hours in front of everybody else. Last thing I need to have is 'mon gawking at me, or to strike up some useless banter with a peer or a higher-up. I'm not too interested in becoming even a one-star General; I'm far too old for the position."

"Were you a Drill Instructor in the past?" she asked less timidly, seeing how fluidly and openly he answered her last question.

"Ah, yes, the infamous DI rumor. Almost always the second question, apart from your previous question and 'Please don't eat me,'" he replied. "Well, I had a particular group of recruits who didn't like me so much. Well, more so than others who have older 'mon yell in their faces every waking hour. So, in the second week of training, I left my hat (which is extremely important, mind you!) in my office to go shower, and one of them actually had the gall to go _into _my office and steal it! Hardly an assassination attempt, but it still pissed me off. After about six hours of yelling, I finally found out who did it." The Latias blanched a bit at the number. Six hours?

"So as you can imagine, I was angry. The next day I sent them on a four-hour marathon run up Mount Chimney. And no, I didn't force them to go barefoot into the lava; I just had them wear combat boots in the ash. I was even kind enough to make them do it during the volcano's dormant season!"

Siria, still not believing that 'the 'mon,' destroyer of worlds, actually was good-natured, couldn't help but ask about the most prominent part of the rumor. "Did you attack them with Dragon Rushes?"

He laughed heartily. "I didn't do that. That would just make them wet their pants."

She relaxed at his proclamation.

"No, I just used Dragonbreath instead."

She tensed at this new assertion.

"Seeing a stream of yellow and blue flame coming out of my mouth when I flew above them really got them scurrying, I can tell you that!" He chuckled at the memories.

The Latias nodded and tried her best to smile, but she was still intimidated by him. Maybe it was only lingering, falsified rumors that caused her fear, but still!

"Any other questions?" Lynch asked, still wearing a grin on his face. After she remained silent, he further ventured, "None, really? You seemed really fascinated with all of the stuff in here, I'll tell you that. The painting, the sand, and especially my carving collection. Are you sure you have no questions?"

She shook her head, but a thought emerged in her mind. _Wait, how did he know about all of that?_

He chuckled and startled her with his next response. "I can see it in your eyes; don't lie. I had a Psychic-type as a First Sergeant back in the day. He'd never lie, but he'd never tell the whole truth either, which kind of made figuring out who's doing what at what time a bit difficult. It took me a while, but I learned how to read him like a book. You're no different! So c'mon, ask!"

There was one particular question that had she had ever since the first moment she stepped into his room. "Why is your office so filled with… nonmilitary items?" Siria managed to get out, choosing her words particularly carefully so that she would not accidentally anger him.

Lynch smiled. "Nailed it. Anyways, besides being a Colonel, I study legendaries, which includes you, I might add." He peered at her. "The Latis are quite interesting; besides Heatran and Cresselia, your species, rare as you guys are, are the only legendaries capable of reproducing, thus allowing you to remain in society; whereas all of the other ones have died or no longer exist in modern culture. Sure, some of them may still be living, but the areas where they do are isolated and mostly inaccessible even to us, one of the world's most powerful militaries. And if we do happen to find a legendary we can access (which is rare, considering that they often reside in other nations and _their_ governments probably wouldn't be too keen on a foreign military entering and extracting what's probably a national symbol), it's not worth losing the division and a half of 'mon required to subdue and capture it. Legendaries are frighteningly powerful in their prime; I'm actually a little bit nervous to have you sitting right here in front of me," he admitted, causing the Latias' cheeks to darken slightly. _He's the nervous one out of the two of us?_ _And what's this about my prime? I certainly don't_ feel_ stronger than others…. _"But I digress."

"Anyways, because I sit behind a desk all day, I usually have lots of extra time unless there's a big mission going on or if a snafu arises on base. The painting above me," he said, leaning back and craning his head upwards to look at it, "Was given to me by a very good friend long, long ago. The Clash of the Titans, she named it. A very apt title indeed. Too bad the movie didn't really meet my expectations…" Lynch muttered. "As for the jars, those hold dirt from every place I've been at war. So as you saw, I fought in Kanto, Johto, Hoenn, Sinnoh, Orre, Almia, and many, many other regions, not to include nations. I kind of wish I didn't take the promotion from Captain to Major; otherwise, I would still be out in the field…."

_That certainly explains his rank_, she noted.

"And the figures," he continued, looking proudly at the cabinet . "I carved them myself!" Lynch raised one of his sharpened claws for effect. "They took a lot of time and effort, but hey, I have an abundant amount of that. The idea of legendaries, 'mon who are 'a cut above the rest,' those who have (or had) the ability to basically form our world, interests me greatly, as you can tell. I do have lots of books and texts on them, but I keep all of those in a separate area so this room won't get cluttered up too much by my junk. Does that answer your question, Siria?" The Latias nodded, feeling as if she had just sat through a history lecture back in high school. Sure, it was really interesting stuff, but its pertinence to the reason why she was here was questionable.

The Salamence picked up on her dubiousness, and said, "Now that's out of the way, the reason why I called for you. There are both good and bad reasons; choose."

"What is the good one?" she asked, strange decision going against her pragmatic self. _What compelled me to pick that?_

"You're being promoted to Staff Sergeant!" Lynch announced.

"Thank you," Siria replied with a smile, not trying to show that she had already known about her promotion a few days prior.

He looked over a sheaf of paperwork. "Of course, you won't officially receive the new rank until the end of the month. The ceremony's all the same, just like when you were promoted to Sergeant. A little speech, the pinning, the clapping, all of that stuff. Just be sure to wear something underneath, like a bulletproof vest." He pounded his pin with a fist. "When they give you the new rank, they really like to punch it after they put it on, and it does bruise your chest." The Latias nodded, taking all of this information in. "And, of course, with the Staff Sergeant position comes more responsibilities. I understand that you led a fireteam when you were a Sergeant? Well, in addition to leading fireteams when we need you to, you also get to lead three of them; basically, a squad. These are the nine 'mon assigned to you." He slid a sheet with a roster of names on it to her. She couldn't help but cock an eye: she saw the names of all of her living quarters members, the fresh SF soldiers she had just trained, and two others she didn't quite recognize. "Of course, nothing is set in stone because of the variable nature of missions, but this is your general list."

Siria folded the paper and put inside one of her vest pockets. "I see. And what is the bad news?"

"Ah, straight to the point, aren't you? Well, before I can disclose anything to you, I must tell you that all of this information is confidential. No, not just confidential," he corrected, perhaps intentionally, as he stared straight into her yellow eyes. "Top secret. Highest level of classified information. What is said here must not leave this room. Under normal circumstances, there would be paperwork for you to do and a full background check, as well as official documents and lettering, but we don't have the time for it. Do you understand what I am saying, Sergeant?" His grin was all but gone, replaced by a somber, stoic expression.

"Yes, Colonel Lynch, sir," she replied formally, sealing the verbal pact.

"Now, I understand that two nights ago a Special Forces group was dispatched to take care of some antiaircraft artillery in Trinity Forest. Five teams of two set out to strike five separate targets. However," he paused, "Only nine 'mon returned alive." Siria tensed at his explanation. "The reason for the tenth casualty's death is listed as 'combat casualty.' I must offer my condolences to you, but I will not try to offer other words of comfort. Anything said would only be an understatement." She nodded, pangs of regret still striking at her. "You and I both know full well that what accosted Wyatt and took his life was far, far more than a simple 'combat casualty.' Can you, Sergeant Siria, confirm for me that you two were engaged by a Shadow Pokémon?"

The Latias affirmed, "Yes. We were attacked by a Pokémon under the influence of Shadow."

The Salamence sighed and leaned back into his chair, seeming to have suddenly aged twenty years. "So it's true. Damn." The unspoken words of "What's true?" leaped to Siria's lips, but she knew better than to directly question a Colonel, especially when he was in such pensive thought. "Our spies heard that there was a weapon like that, and you even gave a presentation on it some time ago. However, we still do not know what Shadow does to its user and what effects it may have on our troops, which means that we have no counters. This is where you come in. As of right now, you are the only 'mon in our entirely military to have fought a Shadow Pokémon and _survived_." He leaned over the desk to cement the seriousness of his statement. "Your observations and input on this matter are gravely necessary if we are to combat this threat."

"I see…" she murmured, a little stunned at the severity of the situation. "What do you want to know?"

"Anything you got. Exteriors, attack capabilities, defense capabilities, speed, everything."

"Well, our enemy was a Glaceon. The method he used of injecting Shadow was through a syringe into his wrist, as if he was administering a drug." She paused for a minute, seeing that Lynch was scribbling madly on his notepad. "The liquid was purple-blackish, completely unreceptive to light," she added, making sure to note every detail. "After he did so, his fur turned a dark purple tinge, although I don't know if the color was mitigated by his naturally blue hide."

"As for capabilities, overall, all of his senses were enhanced. He was able to notice and dodge my attacks a second before they hit his position, and he was able to make modifications to his own attacks. Ice Shard is typically a strike only performed on land or a few meters above the ground, but he was able to jump up to me at a relatively high height for one of his species, undoubtedly the results of Shadow. There are two things that concern me, though."

"Yes?" the busily writing Salamence asked.

"First, before we initiated the battle, Captain Wyatt opened fire on him with a semiautomatic pistol. The cartridge he used were nine millimeter FMJ rounds. The Glaceon was able to form a barrier of ice and block all of them. Usually, this is an ability almost all special-based recruits are trained to use," she said, noticing Lynch's hesitation. "But he claimed that it would be able to entrap a tank round if he needed to do so. Although I could not tell if his claim was made to intimidate us, I would suspect that it is somewhat true, given the other enhancements he had."

After thirty second's worth of writing, he looked up at her. "And the second concern?"

"He had the ability to regenerate. In the battle, I was able to catch him off guard with a Hidden Power, Fire variant, and essentially put third-degree burns over his entire body. Nothing short of a room of paramedics would have saved him. However, as I went to inspect Captain Wyatt, the Glaceon suddenly caught me from behind. All of his burns were gone, to the point where it looked like he didn't even fight us. He explicitly mentioned that Shadow gave him a one-time chance to regenerate, which is why Wyatt was able to kill him later." She rustled through another pocket and took out the Choice Specs she had earlier. "These modified Specs from R&D have the second half of the conflict on video for further inspection."

The Salamence hummed and took the glasses from her. "So, enhanced traits, possible ability to stop hundred-twenty millimeter rounds, and regeneration, to boot. If the shit hasn't hit the fan, I'd hate to see what it would look like when it did," he said unusually calmly. Lynch stood up and paced in the cramped area between the two cabinets. "This will cause quite a few paradigm changes… more development of anti-Shadow technologies, changing engagement doctrine… oh 'mon. Anyways, thank you Sergeant Siria." He sighed, shaking his head at the gravity of the situation. "You are dismissed, and although I most likely don't have to say this to a 'mon like you, may Arceus have mercy on your soul if word gets out about what transpired in here."

"Yes, Colonel Lynch, sir," the Latias replied, getting up from her chair. She saluted him again.

"At ease, Siria."

The Salamence watched the door close as she left, eyes narrowing as the lock clicked. Sighing once more, he took out a second set of papers from a desk drawer and spread them out on top. Why he declared Siria's statements to be "Top Secret" was beyond him; in comparison to the data that laid in front of him, her experiences hardly qualified as "Secret," only capable of creating a major national security breach. On the other hand, _this _information could draw every nation in the entire region into a bloodbath of a war.

The pages had the images of the tanks and equipment that Tamsus had left behind in the night's raids, some images zoomed on specific aspects of the assets. It was the first time the military had been able to capture more than simply small arms from the insurgents; the fighters were incredibly meticulous in completely destroying whatever larger assets they had before the Halycians could find them. In fact, a few investigators almost got killed from makeshift booby-trap bombs planted in some of the tanks Tamsus had left behind. What was most disturbing, though, was an entire page of pictures of serial numbers stamped on metal plates from the machinery left behind. As he read the several paragraphs that followed for what must have been the tenth time, the words remained the same, never changing to something that would have belied his dread. All of the numbers, when cross-referenced with Halcyian military databases, returned that the equipment the militia used was developed and deployed by Mirunas' own military.

So essentially, the blue dragon concluded, the nation to the south was funding Tamsus' activities in Halycia despite repeatedly claiming that, like their neighbor, they too were victims of the organization's efforts. Tanks could be painted and physically altered, but the serials never lied. As the Halcyian Defense continued to chase and corner the insurgent organization at Ahan, a heavily suburban area in the south where Tamsus had first grown from a fledgling group to the network it was today, they could very possibly expect Mirunas to begin to condemn the Halcyians' actions, up to the point of declaring war in "self-defense." The scale was tipped in their favor, too; Ahan sat on the border of the supposedly innocent country, and military action could force Tamsus to "take refuge" in Mirunas and result in breaching their sovereignty.

Lynch swiveled in his chair to face the grand painting behind him, wishing sorely that some of their conflicts could be resolved by a duel between two great powers instead of complicated, twisted, and extremely political diplomatic relations.

* * *

"So, how was it with 'the 'mon?'" Levina asked Siria, giving her a broad smile. The two of them were talking over a table in the mess hall, engaged in their dinners.

The dragon speared her dumpling with a fork, cringing a little bit as the metal pierced the thin, starchy flesh. She was always used to using chopsticks for this type of cuisine. "It was alright, traitor." Siria made sure to lace the last word with an extra hint of sarcasm.

The electric-type couldn't help but snicker. "Oh, give me a break! I mean, I showed up all of the guys in pool! And besides, what was the point of hanging around if I wasn't invited in the first place?"

"You could have accompanied me in, at least…."

"Hmm, either kick some guy's ass or stay with a friend and see the death of her come over… don't blame me!" she responded. Siria remained silent and took an angry bite out of the dumpling, having no response to the crude yet logical options Levina had. "Anyways," she continued, returning to her original question. "How was it?"

"Well, it wasn't as bad as I thought it'd be," the Latias admitted. "Colonel Lynch's not the kind of 'mon that all the rumors say he is."

"Lynch? Sounds like an appropriate name, considering what he does."

"He's actually quite nice. Courteous, even. Not to mention that his office is really interesting."

The Ampharos leaned in closer, obviously interested in what she had to say. "Interesting how?"

"Well, there was-" She stopped when she felt someone tap her shoulder. Looking behind, she saw the old, familiar Salamence. Putting down her fork, she stood up and saluted him wordlessly.

He nodded at her, tacitly allowing her to relax into a less formal position. "Sergeant Siria, a word," Lynch said, leading her to a corner of the great dining hall. Levina peered at them, wondering what they were going to discuss. After the blue dragon inspected her features for a moment, he stared at her. "Look scared."

"What?"

The Latias definitely took the colonel's words to heart as he suddenly raised his voice fifty decibels, Intimidate ability working at its finest as he roared, "I THOUGHT I TOLD YOU NOT TO DO THAT! WHAT COULD YOU HAVE POSSIBLY BEEN THINKING?" Scared out of her mind, Siria simply stood up straight and stared at him wide-eyed. Then, glaring back at the many pairs of eyes focused on him, the Salamence snarled, "What, can't I have a proper conversation with a soldier? Get back to your meals." The other 'mon quickly heeded his order, the characteristic soft monotonous buzzing returning to the room as discussion resumed.

"Sorry about that," Lynch said in a much softer voice, looking a bit abashed as he turned back to the Latias. Siria only nodded at him furiously, nearly having wet herself from the traumatic experience. "I know that I'm basically recognized as Darkrai around here, and as much as I'd like to have a civil conversation with a 'mon, I have a reputation to keep. Can't have them knowing that I'm a decent guy underneath, you know. And I definitely can't let them know that I do things besides yell at people and make their lives hell."

"I- I- I see," she shakily responded. Arceus, he could probably scream the enemy into surrendering!

"It would be helpful if you didn't talk about me so kindly as well." He quickly straightened himself up and walked her back to the table. "It looks like your friend got the point, at least." Levina had a shocked expression on her face, unashamedly dropping her jaw in response to the colonel's ferocity.

"Do you understand, Sergeant Siria?" he asked in a cold, hard voice.

Looking at the Ampharos and then at Lynch, she realized that he was trying to further emphasize his cool façade. "Sir, yes, sir!" she shouted, saluting as she did so.

He allowed a hint of a smile to pass his face before returning to his cool, collected demeanor. "Good. Don't forget it. You are excused" he said, leaving their table and heading towards the exit of the building.

As soon as the swinging doors closed behind the red-winged 'mon, Levina whispered, "Arceus, Siria, what did you do? I never saw Lynch before, but I am _so_ glad I didn't go in with you!"

"Well, I misplaced a pack of training grenades in one of the storage facilities so that sunlight was focused on them, and they exploded because of the heat," she lied, keeping a deadpan expression.

"And he chewed you out over that? Arceus." Levina repeated the epithet, still rattled by his outburst. "And I thought _I_ had it bad… so what was his room like?"

Although she knew that telling her about his studies on legendaries would completely blow his cover, her conscience reared in alarm when the idea of fabricating an even bigger lie crossed her mind. "Well, err…."

"Hey, Siria!" someone shouted. Immediately recognizing the voice, she looked downwards and blushed heavily, not sure whether to count Shadrach's arrival as a blessing or a curse. The Umbreon took up a chair next to her, setting his tray down and looking at the two 'mon. "So, how'd training the FNGs go today?" he asked. Of course, he was referring to the fact that a few of the instructors had taken liberty for the day, and that the higher-ups decided to borrow Siria to act as an interim instructor.

Slowly losing her flush, she responded, "Well, it was alright… they're trained well, but there are little slip-ups here and there that need to be fixed." The Latias tried to avoid eye contact with him, focusing on the bowl of food in front of her instead. She knew that her face would virtually explode if she looked at him.

He nodded in response, stirring his soup with his spoon. "Good, good. For us, training was as usual: hell. You're lucky you got out of it." Levina nodded in agreement, sighing as she scooped the last grains of rice from her own bowl into her mouth.

"Did you have to work with the CQB exercise fifteen times in a row?"

"Fifteen times? Wow… you sure they were SF?"

Siria started a bit at the uncharacteristically sharp comment, turning to admonish him. "Don't you remember when we were privates? Even as corporals we screwed up the courses a lot." Then, suddenly realizing that she was looking at him, she looked down at her tray and began to eat, dissipating any potentially embarrassing emotions that Shadrach could see. If she had continued to look at his face, she would have seen a flash of regret on his features.

"Sorry. I guess it's rash of me to assume things, but fifteen is still a lot," he said, also busying himself with his food. An awkward silence reigned at the table as all three of them ate, none of them knowing what to add to the topic.

"Sooooo…." Levina began, trying to spark some conversation. "Hey, Shadrach, are you going to watch the battle tonight? I heard it's going to be good."

The Umbreon looked up. "Who's battling? I might go if they're good. I really need to update my list of strategies."

"Battles?" Siria asked.

"What, you've never heard of a battle?" the electric-type responded, smirking at her. "I know you're sheltered, but not _this _sheltered..."

"Just because I study and don't get slammed at the bar doesn't mean I'm sheltered! And I know what battles are! Just not battles… here," she finished lamely, beginning to question her previous statement.

This evoked a laugh out of the Ampharos. "Sure, and I'm going to get promoted to Staff Sergeant by the time I finish my tour." Siria thought of the promotion that Lynch had talked about earlier, wondering just how surprised Levina would be when she found that she had to serve under her. "Anyways, the military actually sanctions battles, believe it or not-"

"Believe it or not?" Setting down his silverware, Shadrach looked incredulously at her. "Battles offer both sides an opportunity to train and enhance their hand-to-hand skills in live situations, unlike the training fields where they only hit static targets. Of course the military allows them. Additionally-"

"Ok, anyways," Levina continued, cutting off the frustrated Umbreon before he could go into a full-blown tirade. "Usually there's a few battles every night, and those of us who don't have missions or anything else to do go to watch when we're bored. Well, to be honest, usually they're just two newbie Privates or Specialists going head to head, so not that many people show up to watch those unless one of them already made a name out for himself or _her_self," the Ampharos accented with a smirk. "But I heard it's a Sergeant going against a First Sergeant tonight! I mean, for those ranks you gotta be at least decent at battling!"

"The military feels so strongly about using battles to increase both skill and morale that they originally modeled the special attack training facility as a battle stage," the dark-type added, obviously not done with his vendetta against Levina's egregious remark. "Several sets of flat ground, premade barriers, lines that cut the stage into halves, watch box for the judges, all set to League standards! Even the size, sixty meters by thirty meters, is perfect! It hardly seems like a fight hosted by the military, either; the spectators could all be civilians cheering on the fighters, for all it's worth. For some reason, though, it's very spectator-unfriendly; you're lucky if you're fast, tall, or a flying-type. If the motor pool guys aren't on duty on certain nights, they'll drive a few tanks and trucks over so some 'mon can sit on them and get a higher view."

Siria considered the prospect of watching, but something else concerned her. "Isn't that a rather wasteful use of assets?" she asked, disapproving look crossing her face. "Especially since the recent mortar strikes…."

"The higher-ups didn't exactly build seats for anyone who wanted to watch," Levina said. "And seriously, when's the last time that a mortar caused a casualty?"

"Murphy's Law."

The Ampharos rolled her eyes exaggeratedly.

"Anyways, Siria, want to come watch tonight?" Shadrach offered.

"Hmm…." The Latias took a moment to think about the invitation. On one hand, it would break the traditional shower, read, strategize pattern she always followed on non-mission nights, few as they were, not to mention it would give her a chance to get closer to the Umbreon. But on the other, she wanted to talk to Sirius and mend things between them; when she woke up, he was already gone because he had to go through the orientation routines with the other newly arrived Special Forces troops. He didn't exactly get all of the premier skills expected of him from the Air Wing….

As if she read her mind, Levina said, "If you're wondering about Sirius, he goes to every one of those battles he can." Siria noticed the lack of the word "idiot" the electric-type usually appended to sentences regarding the Latios. "So he won't be back until we're back."

If that didn't give her an excuse, nothing else would. "I'll go, then," she replied.

Levina nodded. "Good. The fight starts in ten minutes, so you might want to hurry up there."

The Latias picked up her tray and stood up. "I'm already done," Siria said, looking behind her to make sure that her wings wouldn't bat the head of an unsuspecting 'mon.

"Oh, Shadrach, we'll be at the entrance," the Ampharos said, preempting his objection. "Just get there in time, ok?" The Umbreon looked at her and nodded, still in the process of chasing a piece of meat in his soup.

As he watched the figures leave, he sighed and put the his spoon down, appetite suddenly disappearing as he realized Siria was no longer sitting next to him. He was really hoping to strike up some additional conversation with the Latias, but it turns out that she was still quite embarrassed about what happened last night. Not that _he_ wasn't, not by any stretch of the imagination. It's just that Shadrach wanted to see if he could make things flow a bit smoother between the two of them.

He stood up and took his tray to the conveyer belt receptacle, wondering if he could catch up to them by the time they got to the training facility.

* * *

Siria nervously watched the crowd. Sure, the Ampharos did say that there would be a lot, but….

"Levina, when you said 'lots,' what did you mean?

"Oh, maybe five or six hundred," she responded casually. The electric-type craned her neck over the rest of the 'mon, apparently looking for something over the many, many heads that were between her and the field.

"Then what's 'not that many'?"

"Fifty, maybe a hundred."

The Latias gave her a strange look. "Hey, battles are popular no matter where you go!" Levina said, defending her assertion. "And watching movies gets a bit boring too sometimes! Even though we live on a super FOB, you have to find entertainment somewhere!"

Her talking was interrupted by a loud beep from behind them. "Hey, outta the way!" a Jolteon yelled. He was on the gun turret of a bulky green, camouflaged, up-armored jeep, equally frustrated Scizor in the driver's seat. The steel-type seemed to be on the verge of snapping the steering wheel between his claws.

As the vehicle slowly began to make its way through the crowd, the Ampharos shouted, "Jackson! Jackson!" at the top of her lungs. The Jolteon looked over his shoulder and saw her.

"Levina! Mount up!" he yelled back. She began to run to the jeep, grabbing the Latias' wrist when she noticed the dragon was still trying to look through the crowd. Having to push a few 'mon aside, the Ampharos managed reach one of the steel doors, pull it open, and jump inside. Siria closed the door, looking outside as more and more faces passed the small window.

Levina sighed, looking up at the Jolteon. "Thanks. I owe you one," she grunted, righting herself in her seat as the jeep continued to progress through the throng of spectators.

* * *

"Damn," Shadrach said to himself. "Why so many?" He got to the facility far later than was advised; he couldn't even see the battle stage from where he stood.

_Shadrach_, a voice echoed in his head. He snapped his head up, wondering who, or what, could be contacting him. _Shadrach, this is Siria. We're at the far side, almost in front of the arena. We're on a transport jeep, a green one._

He opened his mouth to respond, but realized the futility of it. He was trying to physically talk to a psychic voice, after all.

_Just think what you want to say. I can pick your messages up from here. Anyways, if you can't find us in five minutes, I'll call again. I hope you're not too offended by this form of communication…. _He could virtually feel her embarrassment in the voice as the psychic entity quickly withdrew from his mind.

The Umbreon looked up, and just as Siria said, with much straining of his eyes, he could make out a yellow form and a red form sitting on what appeared to be a green vehicle. He looked at the crowd, wondering just how the hell he was going to get through to them. Then his eyes fell on the chain-link fencing that lined the outer perimeter of the training facility. There were hardly any 'mon there, only the very few flying-types who couldn't busy themselves with actually taking flight, choosing to use their extremely acute eyesight to watch the battle instead. Shadrach took advantage of this, using five minutes to weave and push through the edge of the crowd with a gratuitous amount of "excuse me's" and "sorry's."

When he got to the jeep, he saw Levina sitting on the roof, talking animatedly to a Jolteon standing in the gun turret. He quickly recognized that the .50 caliber heavy machine gun was empty, mostly because the lack of an ammo case attached to it. Siria was also sitting on the edge of the top, looking over the few heads that separated the jeep and the stage. Shadrach clambered on the hood of the vehicle and jumped onto the spot next to the Latias, causing her to scoot over a bit to accommodate him. "Hello," he said to her.

"Hi," she replied, looking downwards. "Glad you got the message."

"Thanks. That was a lifesaver. Otherwise I wouldn't have been able to see the battle at all." Siria nodded in agreement. "Do you know who's battling tonight?"

She stared out at the training field again. "No. Levina doesn't know either, and from what she's been saying for the past ten minutes, it seems that she knows how these things work inside and out."

"Well, the battle should be starting… now, in fact," he replied, watching as his watch turned from 18:59 to 19:00.

As if synchronized with his timing, several floodlights turned on, illuminating the grassy, somewhat rugged ground and catching the attention of all the spectators. "A little flashy for just a battle, don't you think?" Siria quipped.

"It's a Sergeant going against a First Sergeant. Of course it's going to be flashy. These battles don't happen as often as you think. Maybe… once every week and a half?" Levina said in response. "First Sergeants are usually too restricted by their schedules to make it on the field."

"Sorry for the wait, guys!" a treble voice boomed. Siria turned towards the source, seeing a whitewashed two-story building positioned a distance away from the main stage. She quickly recognized it as the observation station where both instructors and passing generals would observe soldiers practice and perform their special attacks. However, it seemed that it was being used for a purpose tonight. "Anyways, let's get this going! We have a pretty good battle for tonight: a Sergeant versus a First Sergeant!" The crowd roared at this announcement, raucous shouts of "Top asskicker!" and "Top hat!" clearly showing a decent amount of allegiance to the latter.

"Hey, Shadrach, who do you have your money on?" Levina asked him, leaning inwards to hear his reply over the cheering of the rest of the crowd.

"I didn't put any Poke down this round," he replied.

Siria gave both of them an intensely disapproving look. "Does the military also allow you to bet in addition to battling?"

The Ampharos grinned Mareepishly. "No, but they haven't stopped us in the past four months. Anyways," she continued, "I'm betting on the Sergeant's side, 50,000 Poke!"

"Isn't that a week's worth of pay?" The dragon was slightly startled by the rather large number. Sure, the military provided for all of their everyday necessities, like 1,200 Poke Hyper Potions, but even so, she couldn't help but disapprove of her gambling.

Shadrach had another objection in mind, though. "Why would you bet on the Sergeant? It's statistically been shown that the First Sergeant has the highest probability of winning, outside of other commissioned officers above Second Lieutenant, of course. The chance of winning goes down by rank until Corporal, which surprisingly has less of a chance at winning that a Private, First Class."

"Thanks, Mr. Statistician," Levina grumbled, bright attitude quickly dampened by the realization that she might lose her week's pay. However, the announcer quickly brought her attention from the depressing numbers.

"First off, we have First Sergeant Darryl Reade!" The crowd roared once again as a Weavile jumped over one of the concrete barricades that separated the battle stage from the rest of the spectators, proudly walking up to a painted white line halfway to the center. He flashed his claws and slashed at the air, drawing another bout of cheering.

The Umbreon mused, "Reade, huh... he tends to attack fast and use his speed to avoid blows. He can't take hits that well because of his typing and defenses, so he relies on physical strikes to end the battle quickly…."

"And on the other side, we have Sergeant Sirius Long!" As significantly less cheering came from the audience, Siria dropped her jaw at this announcement, as did Levina. Shadrach simply looked on in interest as the Latios hovered over a similar barrier and set himself down before the line. Darryl and Sirius, both clad in only T-shirts and camo pants, glared at each other from their positions.

"That... what… he's actually doing it?" the Latias spluttered, completely at a loss for words. "I know he's thick-headed, but there's a limit! I didn't know that he'd fight in public!"

Levina slapped her face. "Well, there goes my money. Arceus_-damn_ did I pick the wrong side this week…. How does he expect to make up for his double weaknesses?"

"True, the typings are against him," Shadrach said. "But I'm guessing that he has a few tricks up his sleeve. Siria, would I be correct in assuming so?"

She nodded, looking out at the two combatants. If Sirius could catch Darryl off guard with a physical attack, then he could bypass the ice-type's decent Special Defense….

"You both know the rules! No guns, no 'nades, no weapons! Just one sanctioned hold item per 'mon! First who's unable to move loses! Severe punishments will be given out for unnecessary attacks after the winner has been declared! Is that understood?" Both the Latios and the Weavile turned to nod once at the building before returning to stare at each other. "Good! Let the battle… begin!"

As soon as the word sounded, the Weavile disappeared, wind whistling as he suddenly appeared right in front of Sirius. His ice-coated claws were drawn back, prepared to hit him in the chest with an Ice Shard. The Latios only had a fraction of a second to Protect, seeing sparks and mist play off the pale blue guard he created in front of him as Darryl swiped at it. The blue dragon knew better than to remain unaware, though; as the black figure disappeared again, Sirius tensed up, trying to sense where his enemy would try to strike him next.

He felt the air behind him waver a bit and immediately knew that the Weavile would try to strike at his back. As Darryl appeared right where he had predicted, Sirius roared and lashed out with a reverse roundhouse kick, pivoting on the ball of his foot as he swung his right heel at his head. However, instead of making contact with his face, the Latios was surprised to find that the ice-type had actually dodged and wrapped his arms around his outstretched leg. He then let out a shout as Darryl began to perform a shoulder throw, obviously with the intent to slam the dragon into the ground and deal a decisive injury to end the match early.

"Oh no you don't!" he snarled, charging a Dragon Pulse in his mouth. As Darryl began to pivot to throw the Latios down, he widened his eyes as he saw the blue glow in his maw, immediately letting go of him and narrowly avoiding the searing energy beam that filled his place not a second later. The attack flew right into the crowd, only to be absorbed and neutralized by an invisible shield before it passed the concrete barriers. As Sirius recollected himself, both of them leaped back to their original places, only breathing lightly despite the exertion taken in the five-second exchange.

The crowd cheered wildly, impressed and exhilarated by the display of skill of both of the 'mon. However, Siria was interested in something else. "Why did his attack dissipate? Rather, who's generating the protective barriers?"

"There are a team of twenty Alakazam scattered in the crowd. They work together to make a seamless Protect barrier around the entire arena. Nothing short of a Typhlosion's fully charged Blast Burn would even cause it to bend," Shadrach reassured. "If there's one thing they make sure of, it's protecting all of the soldiers so they're constantly combat ready so they can go and get injured out in the field." He smirked at this irony.

As the two of them talked, the battlers were engaged in another kind of conversation. The Latios, hands throwing off sparks, stretched out his arms and aimed a powerful bolt of electricity at Darryl's position. Yellow glow crackling in the air, the stream arced and hit the dirt, harmlessly grounding itself as the Weavile it targeted nimbly dodged the Thunderbolt attack. Sirius jumped upwards as the ice-type suddenly materialized before him, swiping at him not with an Ice Shard but instead a Night Slash. Looking down at the temporarily confused Darryl, the dragon charged a pair of fireballs in his hands, throwing the Hidden Power attacks down one by one. In response, the Weavile performed Detect, defensive shield allowing him to block the first shot long enough to slip away before the second orange sphere flew by. It collided with the ground, creating a muffled explosion and a small crater.

The Latios was relentless in his pursuit, calling upon his full repository of attacks in engaging Darryl. As the Weavile retreated to the center of the arena, the hovering Sirius opened his maw and shot several rings of water at him, attempting to use Water Pulse to injure and confuse the ice-type. As the rings naturally expanded as they headed towards him, Darryl took advantage of the fact, jumping through one of them. As the dragon finished his attack, he was more than surprised to see a headdress-wearing 'mon charging straight at him. His claws were curled into a fist, condensation around them telling Sirius that the Weavile was about to perform an Ice Punch. Unable to completely dodge the blow, he created yet another Protect barrier, utilizing the same strategy that his enemy used to escape the attack.

As the two 'mon continued to exchange blows in a Meowth-and-Pikachu manner, Siria looked over at a very exited Ampharos. "Uh, Levina?" the Latias asked.

"Fuck 'em up!" she hollered, shaking her fist in the air. Then she looked down at her inquiring friend. "Oh, what?"

"Is there actually a winner, or do they keep on dodging each other's attacks?"

"Oh, there's a tradition that battlers use. Basically, they keep avoiding each other until one slips up and lets the other hit him. Then-" She was interrupted as a giant "ooooooohhhh" rolled through the crowd. They both saw Sirius float back down to the ground, wiping at his face. From their distance, they saw that there was a neat, bleeding cut staining his normally grey cheek. Darryl was standing behind his line again, folding his arms and smirking at the Latios.

"Then, they basically try to beat the tar out of each other until one remains standing," she finished, attention torn away from the Latias as Sirius surged forward with another Hidden Power attack. This time, though, the energy spheres glowed a dull red instead of a fervent orange, telling Siria that its type had changed from Fire to Fighting. _I didn't know he could change HP types! Doesn't that mean he had to change… IVs?_

The Weavile took the attack in stride, dodging the first one by ducking under the enraged dragon's swing. He then planted an Ice Punch right in Sirius' chest, causing him to yell out on pain as the type weakness hurt him far more than usual. This didn't stop the Latios' momentum, though; he took the other Hidden Power attack and struck at Darryl's side. That, with the double weakness, was more than enough to send him reeling with the force of Sirius' attack. Both of them retreated to their respective sides, nursing their injuries and muttering curses.

Or so it seemed, at least. Sirius' body glowed a faint blue as he suddenly lunged at the Weavile with a Dragon Pulse in maw. His sister watched in fascination as the Latios simply didn't just charge, though. He made a set of methodical moves, tapping here, then jumping there, and after, much to the Latias' amusement, slamming his hand down to the ground and performing a six-step, legs virtually vanishing into a blur before he righted himself and exhaled the attack at the Weavile. Siria couldn't help but giggle at the spectacle as he got up from his dance routine, wondering why he would choose a time like now to show off. Back in high school, Sirius never had any formal dance skills. Sure, he could b-boy like crazy, but every girl he tried to dance with at prom stood him up because he couldn't do a slow dance for his life. Well, that, and the fact that he was a giant flirt; Siria wasn't too sure which one contributed more to his lack of luck.

The Umbreon also looked on, equally interested. "Why is he dancing…? It can't be Dragon Dance. Latios aren't physically adept," he ruled out. The Latias besides him heard this, suddenly realizing why Sirius was doing it. Shadrach still didn't know about his unusual skill, and if the super-observant dark-type didn't pick up on it, chances that others would were slim. So if her brother could pull off the stunt without being noticed, then….

"Hey, sarge!" Darryl snapped, looking rather pissed off. "This is a battle, not a dance contest! Get back into it!"

Sirius grinned at him, limply holding his hand to his forehead. "Sure thing, first shirt." Then, in a gesture of utter, complete disrespect, he performed a leg kick and spun around on the tips of his boots, grinning mischievously all the while. The glow around him grew a little brighter, but not enough for anyone but Siria to notice. She imagined that the only thing that he was missing was a suit and a top hat as he performed the move.

More than fed up with the Latios' antics, the Weavile roared and dashed at the dragon, claws glowing a pale green as he readied a potentially deadly X-Scissor attack. However, Sirius neither bit the bullet nor erected a Protect barrier. He _danced_ out of the way, a second spin and a nearly sixty-five degree lean over the ground allowing him to dodge the two furious claws that slashed above his body. The ice-type had to cut a second attack short and jump away as Sirius let a charged Shadow Ball rip from his hands. Darryl then tried striking from behind, but the Latios had analyzed his fighting style by then. Sirius rested one hand on the ground and turned around to perform a rapid flare, causing the ice-type to hold an arm up to block the flailing legs. As the Weavile angrily tried to make a fourth attempt, a powerful blue beam caught him off guard and singed one of his feathers. Scowling, he jumped back to collect himself for another strike. "Sergeant, take this battle seriously!" he growled.

Sirius seemed to not hear him at first, folding his arms in front of him. He then struck a pose, snapping his right hand to his forehead as if he were to grip the non-existential hat on his head. The aura that surrounded him now turned a very deep, noticeable blue. Murmurs went through the crowd as they pondered this new development. The Latios looked up and stared at Darryl, who appeared a bit less aggressive and far more anticipatory of the dragon's mysterious new ability.

"Serious? I'll show you serious." Then Sirius disappeared completely from view, the Dragon Dances under his belt boosting his speed to nearly thrice times that of the Weavile's. Looking around him, the confused Darryl tried to identify an opponent. A more immediate rumbling in the ground attracted his attention, though, as a giant crack in the ground ran up to him with frightening speed. As he leaped upwards to dodge the attack, he realized that Sirius had invoked an Earthquake attack. _But how?_ he asked himself. _I thought Latios weren't good at physical specs!_

His musings were cut short by a blue form suddenly appearing above him. "I'm super cereal." Sirius smirked, unsheathing the claws in his hand in preparation for a Dragon Claw. Darryl, unable to perform any airborne attacks, could only watch as the Latios executed his attack, slamming the Weavile down into the ground with a slash. Then, Sirius dived down, about to pierce the cloud of dirt between him and his enemy-

And suddenly broke off, instead returning to his side of the field and standing there. The Latios was bound by his sense of honor: if he was going to take down an enemy he wasn't ordered to kill on sight, he wanted to make it as fair of a fight as possible. An eerie silence captivated the spectators as they slowly took in the scene. As he waited, a faint silhouette of a 'mon appeared in the dust, staggering and tottering. The Weavile, with many, many cuts all over his body, gave a content sigh. "Good… game," Darryl breathed before falling face flat on the ground. After realizing what had just happened, the crowd cheered wildly, finally understanding that Sirius had won the battle.

"Holy shit, that was amazing!"

"Power _and_ style in that b-boying! You don't see that too often."

"Did that sarge take out a First Sergeant?"

"Fuck yeah he did!"

"And it looks like Sergeant Sirius Long is victorious over First Sergeant Darryl Reade!" the speakers boomed over the shouts as a pair of Blissey administered first aid to the Weavile, giving him a Revive and several Potions before carrying him out on a stretcher.

Levina and, to Siria's surprise, Shadrach, had both dropped their jaws at Sirius' performance. The Latias simply smiled, knowing full well her brother's battling capabilities. Sure, she'd only seen two of his fights, but those were already more than enough to tell her that he was one of the best she'd ever seen.

The Ampharos shook her head. "Are you sure that's Sirius? As in Sirius, the guy who sleeps in our room and hits on me constantly?"

Siria didn't answer her question, instead watching the blue dragon out on the field. He was talking with a third Blissey, taking what seemed to be a pack of Full Restores from her. After, he leaped in the air and flew away, seeming to head back towards the living quarters before the mad rush of soldiers could reach him.

"It certainly seems like it," Shadrach replied to Levina, equally stunned. "Arceus, I never thought I'd be saying this, but I need to learn from him. Siria, did he use Dragon Dance to power his physical attacks? I never thought I'd see a Latios do- Siria?" He looked towards his right, finding that the aforementioned Latias was no longer there. Glancing upwards, he saw a small red body flying in the air, returning back to main base.

* * *

Sirius opened the door and flicked on the lights of the dorm. He walked to his bed and sat down, completely exhausted from the fight. The two Full Restores the nice medic had given him laid ignored on the side of the bed. The punch the Weavile gave to his chest hurt like hell, especially since his Hidden Power didn't end the battle right there. He had anticipated that the ice-type would be holding a Chople Berry, but he didn't expect it to mitigate his attack so much that Darryl could make a counterattack. And he _certainly _didn't expect to have to pull out that strategy on the First Sergeant. But hell, he'd won, and that's all that counted.

The Latios put a hand under his right wing, scratching for something tucked under it. After a few seconds, he pulled out a small, purple crystal ball. The Life Orb certainly took its toll on his energy, converting it into raw power for his attacks, but he was luckily able to end the battle before it sucked too much life from him. After a moment of deliberation, Sirius decided that he could tough out the pain. The expensive medicine could be used for more dire situations, anyways.

The door opened again, letting a little bit of light in. Sirius slowly turned to see if it was a 'mon coming to congratulate him on his victory, ready to tell him a terse "thank you." He was too tired to go out drinking like he usually did after battles. Instead, though, he saw a skinny Latias enter. He looked at the ground again, her mere image activating all of the memories from yesterday.

Siria threw her bags on the top bunk and floated up to it, sitting cross-legged on her own bed. A painful silence filled the room as neither of them talked, both simply staring at something instead.

After five minutes, the Latias couldn't stand the tension any longer. "Sirius…" she started, not knowing whether he would answer or not.

The Latios shifted his position a bit, but didn't say even a word in return.

She had a hard time enunciating what she wanted to tell him. _I want to say "I'm sorry" and just fix everything, but I can't just _say _that… it's just too simple. But how else would I say it?_

Her mind went haywire as her lips seemed to move on their own accord. "Brother, I'm sorry!" she said, nearly shouting it as her voice forced its way past her protests.

Sirius started at this. It wasn't the words that caught his attention, but the sheer emotion behind them. Though his link, he could feel the sorrow pouring out of his sister. "What?" he croaked.

"I'm sorry for all of those things I said! I was so stupid! I just hate that you are what I'm not! Yeah, you live for fighting, and yeah, you're crazy, but at least you can actually do something in a situation! I knew you were trying to comfort me, but I just turned you away!" She bit her lip, unable to continue talking.

Siria felt the bed depress under her as her brother floated up and sat next to her. Last afternoon, she probably would have murdered him if he tried to even touch her, but all she wanted now was for him to hug her. She relaxed her body and laid her head on his shoulder. The Latios looked calmly at the red dragon as she cried softly. He was reminded strongly of the night when their father came home a drunken mess, completely distraught from their mother's death. After the upset Latios cussed Siria out for forty minutes in his alcohol-addled state, she had barged into his room and threw herself on his bed, crying hysterically and threatening to suicide. So Sirius did now what he did then: he wrapped his arms around her and brought her in close, patting her back. "It's gonna be all right, sis," he said. "Gonna be all right."

She hugged him back, bringing the two closer together. "I'm sorry," she sobbed, tears matting her downy cheeks.

"And I forgive you. Sure, I could be offended, but I've heard worse, and I know you didn't mean what you said. Now c'mon," he said as Siria looked up at him with surprise. "Are you going to let Shadrach or Levina see you this way, crying and all?"

"Idiot! Just for a few more minutes…" she pleaded.

Sirius sighed, knowing that there was no way out of it. He silently remained there, hugging and comforting the weeping Latias. The sound of a door opening caught his attention, causing him to widen his eyes at the sight of an Umbreon and an Ampharos outside. They did the same in response; even the normally disregarding, cheery Levina understood the solemnity of the situation. With a subtle gesture from Sirius, both of them closed the door and left the no-longer feuding dragons together.

After what seemed to be an eternity, Siria finally let go of Sirius. "Thank you," she said softly, looking up at him with glistening eyes. The Latias certainly felt a lot better after crying out whatever emotions she had.

The Latios smiled and responded, "No problem, Siria." Then, he paused for a second. "Did you hook up with Shadrach last night?" he abruptly asked.

"What?" the Latias squeaked.

"I could tell, even when you were sleeping. Don't worry, I didn't go looking your mind. You just exuded a sense of happiness anyone could have felt, and Shadrach went and got you back, so yeah, it was pretty easy to figure everything out."

"Well…" she trailed, looking down and blushing. Siria knew that she was in for a world of teasing if she admitted her relationship, but she didn't care so much anymore. "Yes."

The Latias expected her brother to make a snarky comment or something along those lines. However, she was surprised to see him pump his fist triumphantly in the air and laugh. "Sirius, what are you doing? Or do I not want to know…."

"Oh, no, it's nothing. It's just that I just netted half a month's worth of pay!"

"What do you mean by that?" Siria had a sneaking suspicion of exactly what he meant, though.

"I bet some of the Air Wing guys about when you two would actually start going out, and I nailed it on the he-"

SLAP.

The Latios wasn't sure if he should feel agony or happiness when he felt the hit. It had the vibrance and the life that his sister always had, nothing like the other one from yesterday.

Siria fumed at him as he stroked his cheek. "Of course you'd have no issue with gambling with my romantic life…." However, she couldn't help but let a smile come through her scowl as she saw the old Sirius finally come out from his previously morose shell.

A knock at the door attracted their attention before the Latias could abuse her brother even more. "Come in," she called.

Levina and Shadrach came in, the former carrying several boxes. "I assume that you two fixed everything up?" the Umbreon noted, seeing the two of them sitting on the bed together, happy expressions on their faces.

"Yeah, everything's good now. And, I'm now a lot richer, all thanks to-" His sister gave him an intimidating stare that quite possibly rivaled Colonel Lynch's. "Thanks to, err, the fight…. Yeah, the fight!" he repeated, getting off the bed before Siria could make him an "accidental" casualty.

"That's all good," Levina commented, dumping the boxes on her desk. "Oh, anyways, the DFAC cooks were so impressed with your performance that they baked you a cake! We told them that you were tired from the battle. Though you may also be tired from other things…." She looked at him, then at Siria. The latter gave her a scathing glare that was powerful enough to subdue even the oblivious Ampharos into busying herself with opening one of the boxes and taking out a few plates.

As Sirius helped her with the cake, Shadrach clambered up the ladder and sat next to Siria. "Feeling better?" he asked rhetorically. Anyone could sense her happiness from a kilometer away.

The Latias laughed. "I am, I am. Thanks to you, at least." She pecked him on the cheek, feeling far less bashful than before. He blushed heavily in response, but didn't shy away from the kiss either. Below, the blue dragon perked his ears, turning around to see her in the middle of the action. Then he turned back around when his sister gave him another freezing, piercing stare.

As Sirius engaged in some small talk with Levina to displace his fears about the very scary Latias, the red dragon grinned lazily and fell back on her cot, looking at the ceiling. _Everything's normal again, just as it was before. A return to normalcy.

* * *

_

Trivia: Identify what year and what speaker coined the name of the chapter title. Bonus: Identify what the name regarded.

(sorry non-Americans who haven't studied US history might not get this D:)


	15. Convoy

Ugh, I am SO sorry for not updating on time. Life's been catching up to me as I had to do tons of stuff (summer project, college essays, job), but I shouldn't be complaining too much... Anyways, this chapter marks a transitory period in their lives as they get relocated to a new base! And a little foreshadowing at the end, too.

Thanks to grammaguy, hironada, and Galalithial for reviewing! And as Infinity WEAPON, ReploidCat, and Espeon Man answered, it was indeed Warren Harding who used the phrase in his 1920 Presidential campaign. To me, it was a bit upsetting that he won, but given Wilson's condition at the time, his victory was probably unavoidable.

* * *

Chapter 15: Convoy

_Feb. 24_

_Training was slightly different today: instead of mind-bendingly tough, it was mind-bendingly boring. We had to sit thorough two-hour long meetings about not tactics, not strategy, but… history? We had to analyze the historical background of Ahan today, most likely for increased cultural awareness so we don't accidentally breach a social norm and gain a new batch of enemies. I didn't find it too different from history back in high school: you know, both morphs and traditional forms existed at one time in the past, and then the latter was killed by a disease, and then the legends managed to flee, and the second rise of civilization happened, and blah blah blah… I swear that half of us were sleeping about fifteen minutes in. Why Sirius was bent on taking notes was beyond me, but it kept me entertained (and luckily awake) for the entire time to watch him write, scowl, scribble, cross something out, and repeat for the entire time! Stay that way, brother; don't ever change._

_Anyways, I've noticed that our daily routines are slowly changing from a forest environment into a suburban one. This makes sense; that raid a month ago really dented Tamsus' presence in Trinity, so they had little choice but to retreat further south to Ahan while we continued to beat at them from here. I've never been there before; since before I was born all of that area was possessed by them. I could write about how I'm wondering if it's a nice place, but that would be foolish for a good amount of reasons. The military's already put FOBs in the Drake Mountains that separate the cities and the forests of Trinity, so there shouldn't be any problem with striking out at Tamsus from a closer position. I dearly hope that we can bring this conflict to a swift close, but suburban warfare is never that easy. There are a few cities and roads between us and their main base, but the militia is dug into all of those areas. What's worse is that some of the civilians have actually switched over to their side and actively help them. I know not why they do this; maybe they hate the government or find Tamsus an ally. Some of them must have some circumstances under which they made their decision, like that Tyranitar…._

_Intelligence reports that those still loyal to the Halcyian government are essentially held hostage by their presence, so freeing them is undoubtedly our first priority. Apparently the main city that Tamsus operates from is Dakar, which is quite close to the border (I'd write a few other things, but the rest of what I know is OPSEC). It upsets me that Mirunas only chooses to defend their own border instead of help us strike an enemy so close to them; I certainly hope they aren't simply watching us suffer. Though judging from the consistent rivalry between Halcyia and Mirunas since the beginning of their existence, I can't help but suspect that they are actually enjoying our predicament. Too bad our civilian leadership is too docile to publically criticize them._

_Hmm… I don't want to say that these sessions are repetitive, but they are. We had to sit through these meetings for the past half-week instead of actually, you know, training? Yesterday was about Ahan culture, Saturday was about Ahan geography, Friday was about some new weapons system we probably won't get to use in a million years, and so on. Ahan's still a part of our nation; their culture isn't too different than ours, save for a few modifications, so I fail to see how these will be particularly enlightening …. I swear that we've almost spent more time cooped up in a tent and watching poorly made presentations than out there practicing! But the day leadership takes our objections seriously is the day when peace breaks out around the globe. Oh well._

_-Staff Sergeant Siria Long_

With a satisfied sigh, the Latias closed her notebook, content with filling it with her thoughts of the day. She jumped down from her bunk and unlocked a small, steel footlocker under Sirius' bed, being sure to test the psychic-proof lock before using her key to open it. Opening a second, smaller wooden box, she saw the same familiar objects she always kept in it. Inside laid a set of delicate mechanical pencils she had gotten during leave a few months ago, an aged portfolio of sketches and drawings she added to in her spare time, and a more recent addition: a picture of Shadrach poking at her sides as she yelped and squirmed to get away from him. Siria was quite unsure of how Levina had the reflexes to take the picture so quickly, but after a great deal of huffing, blushing, and failed attempts to delete the picture off her camera, she had finally accepted a print from the electric-type on the condition that the Ampharos not distribute one to every guy on base. She had a whole stack of them, too, most likely obtained from a couple of ill-gotten deals with some of the office 'mon. _Though she never did tell me what she did with the rest of the copies…._ Siria frowned slightly in suspicion.

As she set the worn, heavily used journal inside, her hand brushed something cool and metallic. Glancing down, she saw the amulet that Wyatt had given her long ago. Although the memories came surging back as they always did when she saw it, the Latias allowed no emotion to make itself apparent on her face. Ever since the night after Sirius' battle, she had swore to not cry or even sniffle at the sight of the relic. The Wargle had given her a second chance at life, and she was more than certain that he would be offended to know that she had spent even a second brooding over his death.

Sighing again, she locked the lid shut on her trunk. The Latios lying on the bed looked away from his video game at her. "Finally done with pouring your heart out like always?" Sirius asked.

"Yes, I am. Are you done with that level yet? Let me guess," she interrupted as he opened his mouth to respond. "No?"

"No," he grunted, looking back at the two screens. A few clicks resulted in the whine of a bomber, the explosion of a tank, and a hardly-PG swear from the dragon. Siria wordlessly put a hand on the game, causing the Latios to relinquish it to her. She stared at it for a few moments before sliding out the stylus and moving battle helicopters here, tanks there, infantry up in the front, rockets to lay down indirect fire….

The Latias handed the game back to them. "There, done. And a C Rank? I don't think I've ever gotten that before." She giggled.

"Well, sooooooooooorry that I'm not a tactician," Sirius sarcastically responded, looking back at his game. He pushed a couple of buttons to advance to the next level, widening his eyes at what he saw. "Uh, Siria… what is this?"

She grinned. "Oh, only the most difficult mission there is. Even I had a bit of trouble of with it, which should tell you a few things. Good luck."

"Wait, can you-"

"No."

"Please?"

"No."

"Can I ask your boy-"

SLAP.

Shadrach looked from his magazine at the two dragons. "Need help with what?" he asked, getting off his bunk and walking up next to her.

Siria rolled her eyes at the Latios, who was rubbing his face in mock agony. "He doesn't know how to play well, so he needs to learn by himself. Help's the last thing he could use," she explained.

"Ah." The Umbreon bobbed his head in understanding, straining his eyes to get a better view of what Sirius was doing. He winced as the dragon ran straight into an ambush, tank units not lasting a single turn against two barrages of enemy rocket fire.

"Anyways," the Latias said, distracting Shadrach from the game. "It's late, and I'm going to sleep. Night." She gave the Umbreon a quick kiss on the cheek before floating up to her bunk. After a month, he was far more accustomed to her advances, so only a barely noticeable tint of red dusted his jet black face.

As he leaned in closer to get a better view of Sirius' travails, the blue dragon raised his head to whisper in Shadrach's ear. "How come she's so kind to you and so mean to me? Ever since you two got together, she's gotten scarier-"

"I heard that." A voice floated down from above.

"Not to mention prettier, smarter, and cuter, too!" the Latios said in a far louder voice, visibly breaking out into a sweat. This evoked a snort from the bunk above him as a humored Shadrach looked on.

Stifling a yawn, the dark-type said, "Now that she mentions it, it _is_ pretty late. Good night, Sirius."

"You too? 'mon, what do I have to do to get some help?," he complained as the Shadrach got into his bed. The Latios then looked up hopefully at the Ampharos seated on her own cot, completely immersed in another movie. "Levina…?"

Despite her wearing earphones, she heard him and looked up. "Sirius?"

He raised his game, smiling Mareepishly at her. "Help?"

"In your dreams," she replied in disbelief, quickly turning her attention back to the DVD player and leaving him to suffer at the hands of the AI. He scowled at the Ampharos for a moment before looking downwards again. After a few more minutes of tussling with the impossibly difficult level, Sirius gave up, closing the clamshell shut and shoving it under his pillow. He fell asleep absolutely confused and drained, mind fried from thinking too hard.

* * *

"…so operate in that fashion when you have to talk with them. You know, tricks like, you take a gift in the left hand, these are the sunglasses that don't scare civilians, etcetera. Any questions?" A Luxray in the front shone a red laser pointer at each bullet point on the collapsible projector screen as he elaborated on the topic. He seemed to be completely oblivious to the more-than-noticeable sound of soft breathing in the room as about five of the thirty 'mon seated around the table nodded off.

A Latias sitting near the front smirked, tapping her pen on the blank legal pad in front of her. _Hardly surprising. We already learned all of this before we were even deployed. _Next to her, Shadrach looked on, equally bored by the presentation. Sirius and Levina, because of their less-than-stellar track records, were luckily excused from this particularly high-level meeting.

After listening to the pseudo-silence, he continued, "No? Good, I'm glad to hear that." He closed his mouth as the sound of a landing plane rendered anything he could say unhearable. After the noise was reduced a bit, he finished, "Today's meeting is over." At the announcement, those who were asleep suddenly woke up, conditioned to snooze through the one-hundred thirty decibel scream of a jet engine but become fully alert at the mention of that phrase. As the collective shuffling of feet began to fill the air, the electric-type held up a paw. "One more thing. I hope you all know why we've had so many of these briefings about Ahan and asymmetrical warfare in the past week."

The unspoken words, "Do tell," hung heavily in the air as all of them looked back and stared at the Luxray.

"The 10th group of Special Forces and the Special Troops element of the 85rd Airborne Division are being deployed from here to Forward Operating Base Fearow up in the Drake Mountains. There, not just us, but all conventional and unconventional branches will begin the final stages of operations and mount an assault on Ahan. Our optimal goal, as all of you know, is to finish this thing within three to six months and put this giant war to rest by capturing the leaders." He held up a pair of playing cards, one of which had a snarling Typhlosion on its face. The other had the image of a stoic Nidoking, serious purple mien showing neither anger nor delight. "We're very close to the end of all of this, and a joint task force of Special Forces and Airborne will undoubtedly lead the way."

Murmuring arose from the soldiers as they considered this news. "Sir," a voice called out. "Isn't that timeframe rather optimistic of us to assume? Counterinsurgency operations take time, not force."

The Luxray shifted uncomfortably at the straightforward question, fur slightly popping with static electricity. "Well, some would say that it would be," he said, being sure to direct all possibly indictment and blame to the "some" that he mentioned. "The top military commanders wanted to look good, so they promised the President a set of, as you said, 'optimistic' dates.

Another question. "What is FOB Fearow like? Anything like here?"

"Well, if by 'here' you mean isolated living quarters, MWR's, fast food restaurants, and the like, then no. You guys got lucky when you were deployed to FOB Archer. There are thousands of troops who would kill to be stationed here. Anyways," he said, distracted for a bit, "Base Fearow is up in the mountains, for one; it's hard to transport the housing units all the way up there. It was also made recently, so little, if any, of the usual amenities are erected yet. Setting up MG positions, base defenses, and communications systems comes first and foremost before anything else, though I'm sure you all already know that."

Siria could virtually hear the silent response, "As we did everything else you've talked about for the past week."

"So, tents?" the same voice said depressedly.

The electric-type confirmed, "Yes, Justine. Tents."

"Isn't it freezing up there?" Siria looked back to get a better look at who was asking. After a second of looking, she found a female Salamence looking a little more than disgruntled at the answer. She sympathized with her; as dragons, they had a national aversion to all things cold, especially ice.

"It snows year-round in the mountains." The answer was more than enough to make her grimace. As if he was responding to the Salamence's expression, he offered, "I have already requested the appropriate gear and dress to counter the cold." Somehow, Siria didn't feel that logistics would successfully fulfill the request. When Special Forces operated in the desert, they sent sets of olive green fatigues instead of the much more conspicuous tan brown.

The Luxray, after noticing that there were no other questions, said, "Deployment begins in four hours. The other members of your companies have already been notified this, and I apologize for your delay; however, as the lead elements of your respective groups, today's discussion was chiefly important. The trucks will arrive at sixteen-hundred, so please prepare accordingly. One duffel per 'mon, nothing else."

Normally, the various Special elements of the military were trained relentlessly night and day, so their complaints were minimal. However, his sudden announcement of the limited time they had was more than enough to draw mutters of dissatisfaction from them as they quickly voided the room, returning to their quarters to begin hasty preparations.

Shadrach was one such 'mon. "What else can you expect from them but to screw us in the end…" he said with measured bitterness. The Umbreon ducked under the fabric of the entrance of the tent. Siria walked besides him, looking out at the airstrip next to the conference "room."

"Four hours is enough time, isn't it?" she asked. "All we have is our fatigues, rifles (for you guys, at least), and personal stuff. All we need to do is take the sheets back to the cleaners and be done with everything afterwards."

"Well, yeah," he begrudgingly admitted. "But still…."

"You've also got me," she added brightly, voice lilting at the end.

Shadrach's face lightened at this. "That's true," he said with a bit of renewed optimism. _But really, couldn't they have let us sleep on it for a night or two?_

He looked at Siria surprisingly when she replied, "It's better if we go earlier so we can make preparations and set up base. Who knows how many missions we'll be tasked with once we're up there?"

"How- what?"

"You still think too loudly, Shadrach," the Latias teased. "Even if you don't know it, I can still sense almost everything you think because we're close together. Same logic applies to my brother; we often catch little bits and pieces of what the other thinks. Though I'm honestly surprised you still haven't…." She trailed off.

He cocked his head at her. "Haven't what?"

"N- nothing!" Siria looked away, blushing and mentally berating herself for actually spending the time to visualize one too many of Sirius'… thoughts. She couldn't think of a cleaner descriptor to express what the Latios fantasized of sometimes.

Shadrach looked at her oddly before facing straight ahead again. She almost always had these awkward moments, as if she was about to say something, but then reneged on it because it would be embarrassing or something. He didn't mind, but it still made talking to her a bit of an effort sometimes. Though the whole relationship between him and her was strange within itself….

By the time the Latias recovered from her moment, both of them stood in front of their living quarters. Siria looked somewhat sadly at the tan-painted shipping container. "You know, I'm going to miss our housing unit. I never thought of it as 'home,' but after living in here for eight months, I have to think a bit differently. Especially since we're moving into tents; those are the worst. The Drakes are cold, and tents don't exactly do the best job of keeping the wind out."

"We have to make with what we have," the Umbreon said in response. "And, as he said, it is the mountains. How do you expect to move one of these up there?" He motioned towards their dorm.

She nodded in agreement, resting her hand on the metal knob of the door. Walking inside, she heard a slight noise. It was too dark for her to identify the origin of the sound, but it seemed like… snoring? Turning on the lights, she saw a blue wing poking out of the covers on one of the beds. She was surprised at first; those who weren't in meetings were usually doing drills or honing their skills outside on all days but Sundays. Today was an exception; they were supposed to be packing, but why would he be…. Then, she realized that Sirius was sleeping in. A little more than angry, she glanced back at Shadrach. He shrugged, not knowing what course of action that she should take.

As the overly kind sister she was, she marched over to him and forcefully pulled the sheets off his body. Thankfully, the Latios had the decency to get dressed in his PT shirt and shorts before sleeping again, so she didn't see the customary shirt-and-boxer combination. However, even with all of the commotion, the dragon still remained asleep, muzzle dripping a bit of drool on the pillow. Left with only a single option, Siria did what she always did to him since they were kids. She rested her hand softly on his downy neck, lowered her head to an ear, and….

"SIRIUS!" she yelled, clamping her hand down. An involuntary shock rolled through the Latios' body as he shouted and jumped straight out of bed, banging his head on the wood above. Luckily, the already-weakened plank did not give way; had it done so, the mattress above would have came crashing down on him, as the other three wooden pieces could not have supported the weight.

He looked around, hit to his head blurring his vision a bit. "Who… whaa…" he said, putting a hand to his head. "What the- oh, Siria…." His face flushed as he realized that he got caught in the middle of shirking duty. "Good… afternoon?"

"Sirius," the Latias said rather calmly. "What are you doing?" Shadrach looked away from the spectacle, all too familiar with what was going to happen next.

"I swear, it's not what it looks like-"

SLAP.

"You're supposed to be packing, not sleeping! Arceus, are you mental?"

Sirius, even in his sleep-addled state, managed to get a grin out. "What do _you_ think?"

Rolling her eyes, she commanded, "Whatever! Just get out of bed already…." The Latios did so, still shaking his head as he stood up. "You're lucky I'm nice enough to not rat you out for this… or the last time… or the time before that…."

"Thanks, sis. Nice to know that I always have an angel looking out for me," he replied, giving her a smile that was anything but earnest.

"Not buying it."

"Oh."

Huffing, Siria opened the footlocker under their bunk and began to rifle through its contents. She began to move its contents on the top of her bed: a pair of shoes, civilian clothing, a pack of hard candies, a multitool, several blank sketching books…. As she continued to unpack, she took her small box and laid it gently on top of her pillow, taking care not to damage or disturb it in any way. After she emptied the steel container of all its contents, she took out a small duffel bag and began to put all of the items back into it. While she continued to pack, Sirius looked on in amusement.

"Well?" she demanded, virtually feeling him stare at her. "Are you just going to stand there?"

He held up a significantly smaller bag. "No need. I already made my preparations."

"What, everything fits inside that thing?"

"It works. I just have the bare necessities, not all of the extra stuff that you brought along." She glared at him, but he hardly noticed. "NBC mask, shower kit, medication, canteens…" the Latios listed, watching her struggle to fit her sketchpads in the bag without bending them. "Everything else isn't terribly necessary for living out here. Air Wing guys didn't get all of the bells and whistles that Special Forces did; administration was cruel in moving us to this barrack and that section and just all over the damn place. On the other hand, it looks like you dug in pretty well. I wonder…." Sirius put a hand to his muzzle, pretending to think deeply. "Is it because you're in SF, or because you're a girl?" He ducked as the Latias chucked a pillow at him, laughing as she fumed at him.

Shadrach zipped up his own bag. "Not true, Sirius. Special Forces is trained to pack lightly so that we can be as mobile as possible, even more so than some of the special elements of the Air Wing. I'd thought you'd know this after a month in."

"Yeah, yeah, I know. If you eliminate that option, I guess it's because she's so _girly_." The Latios hardly had time to react before she threw a Mist Ball in his face, covering him from head to toes with feathers. The Umbreon couldn't help but snicker at the normally grey-and-blue dragon stiffened, completely blinded by all of the down clinging to his face.

"Oh, c'mon, Siria!" Sirius exclaimed, spitting out a couple feathers and wiping at his eyes. "You know I'm right! Ever since you were a kid, you've always carried too much stuff! I mean, who has time for drawing in the middle of combat?"

She shoved a bag into her bag brusquely and zipped it shut, content with all of the gear she was going to take with her. "Well, I don't drink, I don't try to beat the crap out of other people all the time, and I certainly don't go out of my way to hit on other guys, so what else am I going to do?"

"Yeah, but-"

"Sergeant Sirius," the Latias formally called, getting off her bed and trying to meet him eye for eye. However, it was a bit hard for her to do so, seeing that her brother was almost a head higher than her.

He looked down at her in confusion before his blue-striped face twisted into a pained expression. "Oh, Arceus, don't do this to me, Siria. Please?"

"I'm going to need…."

"Really? Not even a bit of compassion?"

"A box of grid squares, a bucket of K9P solution, and, hmm…" she trailed. "Several feet of flightline. On the double, Sergeant."

"But-"

"Your Staff Sergeant is in need of these items. Will you get them, or do I have to write you up?" Siria kept eye contact with him, trying her best not to drop her stern expression and burst out into hysterics. Shadrach simply smirked at them, feeling empathy for the Latios. He couldn't possibly remember the number of times others pranked him with those tasks when he first set foot on the base.

Sirius scowled for a minute, wondering if it would be worth it to actually defy her order. After all, they were going to deploy in three and a half hours, so he wouldn't get court martialed until the Miltank came home….

_I'll also make life up in the Drake Mountains a living hell for you_, he heard a voice in his head say. _Who knows what I can do a bit of ice and psychic powers…. _The inflection of her tone was more than enough to force the Latios to decide.

"Sir, yes, sir!" He saluted stiffly before marching out, leaving the Latias and Umbreon in the room alone as he went to do the tasks assigned to him.

Shadrach watched the retreating blue figure. "Siria, you _do_ know that he's just going to spend the next couple of hours just screwing around, right? It probably hasn't been the first time that he's heard of those things."

"Yeah, but I wanted the satisfaction of using my rank a bit more. It doesn't hurt my conscience to abuse my power, too, considering that he'll probably find his own way of getting back at me later." She jumped down from her bunk, placing her duffel right next to the bag that Sirius left behind. Shadrach did the same, setting his things on Levina's bed and looking at the clock.

"One last time at the DFAC?" he asked, smiling slightly. He would say that he would miss the food, but then he would be lying. Sure, it was nice for the first few weeks when the meals rotated, but eight months of the same food was just too much to bear.

She looked back at him, sharing the same sentiments that he did about the food. "I'm not too hungry…." The Latias blushed heavily when her stomach objected, growling loudly in defiance of her statement. "Well, maybe…."

"You're hungry, no doubt about it. Now let's go," Shadrach returned, extending an arm towards the door. "Ladies first."

The Latias batted lightly at his face. "Flirt," she teased, taking his paw and dragging him along as she exited. A flustered Umbreon had little time to react as he nearly fell from the exertion she put on his arm.

* * *

"What the hell, Sirius!" Levina snapped. Four 'mon sprinted across the forward base, kicking up dust as they tried to get to the transport trucks assembled at the gate. They were running late for a variety of reasons.

"Well, Siria asked for grid squares, some K9P, and some flightline!" the Latios protested in response.

"Was it really necessary to put what you did there?" The Ampharos nearly tripped on a stone as she pumped her legs even faster.

Sirius looked at her in exasperation. "Well, yes, she ordered me to!"

"Doesn't mean that you had to put a bucket of urine and ten pounds of concrete on my bed!" the Latias in question responded.

"That was apple juice! And if you didn't knock it over we wouldn't have had to clean it up!"

Shadrach had nothing to say, taking the lead as the three behind him bickered amongst themselves. He strained his eyes to see the trucks in front of them, widening his eyes when he saw that the APC in front of the line began to roll forward slowly. The sound of the other vehicles starting up was audible even from their distance. As he picked up the pace, the others did as well, now far more certain of the possibility that they could get left behind.

"…ey! Hey!" A Salamence jumped out of the back of the last canvassed truck and shouted at them. "Hurry up!"

With an extra burst of speed, the Umbreon reached the transport and clambered up in the back, relieved that he didn't have to catch another ride and explain to some angry higher-ups why exactly he was late. Next came the dragon twins, feet touching the ground as they ended their short, frenzied flight. Levina reached the truck last, first unceremoniously throwing her bag inside before making what could be considered nothing less than an Olympian feat as she leaped and barreled into the vehicle as it began to lurch forward. The four 'mon then composed themselves, sitting on the wooden ledges at the two opposite ends of the truck as a Charizard and a Swellow kindly made room for them. The Salamence who had alerted them of the departure too returned, folding her red wings in as she took a seat besides the Latios.

"Long time no see, Sirius." She flashed a smile at him.

The Latios grinned in response, hardly believing this coincidence. "Same to you, Justine."

"So, how's life been since we worked together?"

Siria watched with interest as the two dragons began to hit it off. Her brother, the self-proclaimed pervert, was holding a sustained conversation with a female, out of all the 'mon she'd expect him to chat up. And a Salamence, too! The Latias thought that the noble dragons would have higher standards than others. Not to mention that Sirius didn't really show anything but his racy side to those he wasn't too familiar with…. Well, she could ask about them later. Pulling out a worn book from her duffel bag, she quickly immersed herself in another one of T. Banette's discussions of counterinsurgency tactics and asymmetrical warfare.

After a few hours had passed, she looked up from an infographic of rising violence in Ahan when he heard her name mentioned. "Oh, I haven't introduced my sis, have I?" Sirius said, looking towards her. "Justine, this is Siria."

The two girls looked at each other for the first time. Siria saw that she looked decent; not stunningly beautiful, but more than enough to allow Sirius to waste a pick-up line or two on the unfortunate dragon. _Wow, I'm already feeling sorry for her._ And there was a certain intelligence in her eyes, too, something that spoke of both book knowledge and practical skills.

"Nice to meet you," the Latias greeted, smiling warmly.

"The same," Justine responded in kind, shaking her extended hand with a claw.

Siria had several questions she had thought of, namely: "Uh, Justine, how do you know Sirius? And how is it that you're talking to him without wanting to kill him?"

She laughed in response, looking at the Latios. "Well, I would say that the first time we met involved me being pinned down by him while he was naked." A faint purple tinge appeared on her face, but she pushed it down as she delivered the line with a deadpan expression.

The hardly innocuous statement got the attention of everyone in the truck. The Charizard and Swellow, once in the middle of a heated debate, looked up wide-eyed at their fireteam leader. Shadrach, Levina, and Siria all dropped their jaws simultaneously while Sirius looked down, an uncharacteristic red blush completely filling his countenance. "W- what?" the Latias managed to choke out with great difficulty. "Sirius, I knew you were pervy, but, Arceus, this?"

"No, no!" he responded, waving his hands in front of him. "That's not what she means! I mean, err-"

"Mean what?" Levina asked pointedly. She leaned inwards, interested in whatever acts the Latios may have partaken in. He looked nervously at Justine, who wore a giant smile on her face as she watched him squirm.

"Well, like, I was assigned a mission with her recently, and I had to use my invisibility, and I don't have those fancy suits that Siria does, so I had to strip down, and something went wrong, and I landed on top of her somehow!" He paused for a moment to catch his breath, seeing the Latias next to him giving him an appraising stare. "Honest, Arceus, I swear! Don't give me that look!"

The Ampharos smirked. "Why do I find myself not believing that?"

"Really! I had to avoid enemy fire, so I jumped into the first cover I see, and then she's right there under me!"

She stared at him for a minute, trying to discern the veracity of his protests. "Hmm… I guess you're telling the truth," she deliberated. "But," the electric-type continued, eyes wandering up to the Salamence. "Justine, right? Did you enjoy it?" A quite noticeable element of lewdness made its way into her voice as both the Salamence and the Latios exchanged wide-eyed glances before looking away and furiously blushing.

"Levina!" Siria yelped.

"What? No!" Justine exclaimed in response. "For one, he's a pervert! No way I would enjoy that! And who has the time to even think about that when we're getting shot at?"

"Sometimes you can think of the strangest things under fire…. Sirius, did you?" The Ampharos continued on her war-path, completely oblivious to the incredulous expressions she was drawing.

If there was one thing the Latios wasn't, it was modest. "Well…." He laughed and looked over at the Salamence.

SLAP.

"You too?" he accused Justine, rubbing his face as she held her claw raised for another strike. Siria rolled her eyes at this; it didn't take a Psychic-type to figure out what exactly he implied.

Justine, still wearing a full blush, rounded on him. "You're lucky I'm only using the back of my paw. Imagine what would happen if I used my claws…." She flashed the gleaming white appendages out for him to see.

"Note taken," the Latios returned, looking downwards.

"But yeah, anyways, we've known together when we were on a mission, and that was it. Wish I could say he saved our asses, but then that would be a lie," Justine commented.

He looked indignantly at her. "What? What about the time I had to dislodge the enemies hiding behind the trees?"

"Point."

Their discussion perked Siria's interest. "Mission? Air Wing?"

"No, Airborne."

The Latias looked at her brother, who started to sweat under her stare. "Sirius, what is she talking about?" Siria knew full well that their Special Forces group was never tasked to work with Airborne until now, so she naturally concluded that something must be afoot. Shadrach glanced upwards from his book, also interested in what the Latios had to say.

"Well," he began. "You remember the time when you had to disable some AA in the forests some time ago?" Siria nodded. "There was an Airbone company that went in after you guys did, and I took the place of one of them."

Justine added sadly, "Bill's been discharged from the military. I guess he got caught that night..."

"Uh, Sirius," Siria said. "That happens to be in violation of an amazing amount of military codes, some of which regard OPSEC and other mission security information."

"Not the first time I've done it, and probably won't be the last time, either."

Shadrach could ignore the Latios' hapless romantic struggles, but he could not turn away at his revealing information that could possibly put him and other Special Forces 'mon in potential danger. Bookmarking his novel and putting it away, he started, "Now look, Sirius-"

BOOM.

The truck came to an abrupt stop, upsetting everyone's original sitting positions. Shadrach blinked once in surprise, quite offended that something had broken his rant.

"Everybody out!" Lamar roared, scanning the back once before following Erik out of the back of the truck. His tail flame glowed a bright, crackling yellow, a telltale sign that he was incredibly agitated and alert.

Siria kept close to the vehicle, maintaining a low profile in case a lingering Tamsus agent had caused the explosion via antitank rocket or other such projectile weapon. The last thing she needed to do was add to the list of casualties at this point. As she looked up, she saw a black plume of smoke spiral up from the front of the convoy. Looking past the other trucks and further down the road, she also noted that an APC had been knocked on its side, eight wheels spinning helplessly in the air. Several of the bags that the soldiers chose to hang on the outside burned brightly, leaving Siria feeling quite grateful that she was in a truck instead of a troop carrier. A deep, wide crater laid in the asphalt next to it, leaving her little to wonder about.

"Arceus, what happened?" Erik commented. "Hopefully there aren't too many casualties…."

"It's an APC," the Charizard reassured. "Usually when they hit an APC the 'mon inside get rattled, but almost never killed. Few bruises, maybe, but no serious injuries."

The Ampharos walked up to Siria, wearing a scowl as usual. "Wait, so was that a mine? Arceus help us if that was another cell phone bomb. The last thing we need is to take another walk down IED Alley." She wasn't particularly rattled by the event, having been in more than her fair share of attacked convoys.

"Who knows? Most likely a mine; we haven't completed de-mining in this area yet," Justine replied, scanning the surrounding fields as if she were trying to find someone.

At this mention, Siria became a bit uncomfortable at the idea that there might be lingering insurgents in the area. Some Tamsus units were dispatched for months at a time, and may not have received the news that the rest of their forces had already retreated. Now realizing this, she decided that a mental scan was in order. Closing her eyes and concentrating, the Latias amplified her search to all areas as far as her eye could see, ignoring those that she could identify as Halycian troops. After a moment of silence, she found that there were two foreign 'mon hiding… somewhere. As she too looked out at the plains surrounding the solitary road, she saw mounds of hay here and there, each one capable of hiding a pair of Tamsus insurgents. _In that one!_ Siria pinpointed a particular pile, definitely sure that grass did not emit brainwaves.

Just as she was going to tell Shadrach about her discovery, the harsh _blam blam_ _blam_ of autocannon fire filled the air as another APC, hardly damaged by the explosion, began to fire on the position she had just located. It only took a couple of the high explosive rounds to set the entire mound on fire, causing two bodies to run out. The Latias winced as they succumbed to a virtual wall of lead and special attacks as all of the 'mon in the front attacked at once, not sparing a single bullet or attack on the targets. She was strongly reminded of Shadrach's story and averted her gaze because of it, forcing down the butterflies in her stomach she always felt when saw 'mon being killed. Shadrach emotionlessly looked on, while Levina already decided on getting back into the truck. And Sirius was….

Well, where _was_ he? Siria looked around her, but the only blue dragon she found was Justine. Then she saw his faint winged figure leaning down over a body on the ground near the toppled APC. The Latias, both wanting to satisfy her curiosity and help in any way she could, made her way around the parked trucks to where he was. When she saw exactly what he was doing, she widened her eyes.

A bloodied Mightyena laid on the ground, writhing in pain. She searched for a proper explanation to this, looking around her and almost immediately finding one. Right next to the APC there was an armored jeep, its body originally obscured from their view by all of the other vehicles. Its left front was entirely ripped off, revealing the axles, pistons, and other metal parts that made up its engine and transmission.

"Fuck!" the dark-type roared as the Latios tightened a fabric bind on his right leg. Or rather, what was left of it. The dragon tied a makeshift tourniquet on the Mightyena's limb, which was completely blown off from the knee down. Sirius had neither the time nor the courtesy to perform a proper amputation, so several charred strands of flesh still remained attached, hanging off the jagged, bony stump and dripping blood onto the ground. The Latias shivered instinctively; although she had seen wounds like this before, she couldn't help but feel disgusted by the scene.

The Latios, just then noticing Siria, motioned at her. "Siria, hurry, treat his upper body!" She nodded, understanding what exactly she needed to do as her hands began to glow with a Wish. His torso was somewhat better, the bulletproof vest the Mightyena wore preventing most of the shrapnel from the blast from tearing apart his body. However, metal had torn through the non-protected parts of his upper body, allowing small rivulets of blood to stream down his blood-soaked fatigues. A few Wishes were more than enough to take care of the minor flesh wounds, sealing them up by encouraging the tissue underneath to perform cell division and metabolize more quickly. The Latias wasn't too concerned with the biomedical intricacies of her skills; she was more worried about whether she would be able to fix everything wrong with the patient.

As she worked her way up his body, she froze as she looked at his face, and for good reason, too. Half of it was ripped off, revealing a raw, red, fleshy face that normally remained hidden under a hide. Because it was impossible to wrap a tourniquet or other such restraint anywhere on his features, blood streamed down freely, matting the dirt ground dark and contributing a sick, powerful smell of iron to the air. As Siria tried her best to seal up the profusely bleeding wound, she unwisely chose to look above the Mightyena's broken nose. She gasped as he saw that one of his eyes was completely blackened, undoubtedly roasted from the sudden explosion when he unwisely looked down at the roadside bomb right as the explosion reached him. The other eye fared no better, leaking heavy amounts of blood and vitreous fluid from a particularly nasty entry wound. Siria recoiled in both disgust and alarm, looking towards Sirius for guidance. "Brother…."

"What, Siria? I'm kinda busy here," he tersely returned, tilting the leg upwards to aid in controlled bleeding. "Get me a sixty-eight Whiskey!" he yelled much louder. "And a medevac, at that!"

"Look at his face…" she whispered.

He looked up at her. "What are you talking abou- oh…." Sirius grimaced at the sight, already knowing that the Mightyena's vision was far beyond impossible to save. "Well," the Latios started unsurely, darkly looking downwards.

Siria looked at him, anxiety written all over her countenance. "Is there any way to save his eyes?"

"Impossible," he quickly ruled out after a five second survey of the dark-type's face. "Even with Wish abilities, the wound is beyond impossible to heal. It's just too complex. The only way to do it is though a Healing Wish, and I don't think there would be a Latias or Cresselia who would be willing to suicide to bring him back to health, if there was one even skilled enough to use the move." His face was grim, looking far different from the normally jovial one in the truck just minutes ago.

The dark-type spit out a considerable amount of blood. "Arceus… wha- what happened…. I can't see… and who's there?" Siria knew that she had heard his voice before somewhere, but she now knew for certain that he was the same Mightyena that she gave medicine to a month ago. She widened her eyes slightly in surprise before solemnly looking downwards.

Sirius groaned, knowing that there would be no way to pad the depressing news. He leaned down to his ear and whispered, "Dude, your leg's gone. And so are your eyes."

"What?" The dark-type's muzzle froze as he slowly absorbed the news. He tried to raise his arms, but both of the dragons were quick to restrain him. After putting up a light struggle, the Mightyena gave up and relaxed as much as a suddenly blinded amputee could. "Oh, Arceus…. What… that doesn't… even…." Both of the dragons looked down with downcast eyes, knowing that if he could cry, he would.

A Pidgeot ran up to them, clipboard in hand. "Soldier! How many casualties have you- holy mother of Arceus." His rapid question evaporated in his throat as he saw the Mightyena's mangled body.

"One, sir," Sirius replied morosely, looking away from the whimpering dark-type for a moment. "Also, where the hell is the medevac?"

"They've dispatched a couple choppers from FOB Archer right when they got news of the attack. It should take them fifteen more minutes, tops."

The Latios looked indignantly at him. "Fifteen minutes? Listen, I'm a medic, and I can say that he is probably going to die without treatment. For one, he's running out of blood, and two, only Arceus knows what kind of brain trauma's he had."

"Sorry," the flying-type responded, shrugging and sighing. "If I could I would fly him on my back, and I'm sure you would too, but in my unprofessional opinion, I don't think we could do so without further harming him. And…." The Pidgeot's voice faltered as he looked downwards at the body. "Is he really going to die?"

"Who knows? If they have a fresh supply of blood on board, he'll probably make it. For right now, though? It's up for Arceus to decide."

Sombered by Sirius' pragmatic reply, the Pidgeot left them far more slowly than he arrived, walking as if he were in a trance. Siria looked at the retreating figure, eyes softening in sympathy. "Sirius… is what you said true?"

He looked down at the now unconscious Mightyena. The tourniquet seemed to be working, as less and less blood streamed out of his thigh. Siria's Wishes also seemed to be having a positive effect, torn half of his face letting less fluid out. "Yeah," the Latios sighed. "He looks alright now, but we honestly don't know how much he's lost between then and now. He could only use one infusion, or maybe three. Who knows? All we can do now is watch him to see if he goes into shock or something."

The Latias nodded at his reply, looking out forlornly at the plains. The seemingly innocent range could hold more threats for them, possibly some that were even out of her scanning range. And as Justine mentioned before, there could also be mines further up the road. And she thought that this was going to be a relatively safe trip, too….

The fifteen minutes passed like seconds to her. She turned around at a faint _whup, whup_, looking up at the faint silhouette of a transport chopper. Sirius popped a smoke grenade, tossing it out at an open space close to their position. The helicopter noticed the purple plume and changed its orientation, coming in close enough so that Siria could see the red cross painted on its underbelly.

As soon as it landed, three medics piled out, looking at the shouting Latios and the Mightyena he guarded. An Espeon pushed a stretcher up to their position while the two other 'mon ran to attend to another casualty elsewhere.

"Siria, help us put him on the stretcher," her brother ordered. The Latias crouched down in sync with him, nodding as each one of them put their hands under his torso. The newly arrived psychic-type took hold of his single leg, pulling the Mightyena onto the stretcher as all three of them lifted him off the ground. After Sirius gave the medic a quick runthrough of the dark-type's status (Siria caught the words hypovolemia, ballistic trauma, and hyaloid canal), the Latios helped her run the bed back to the waiting chopper.

The dragon looked up at him after he returned back to her, the cool blast of the helicopter's rotor wash passing over the two of them. "So?"

"So, he may or may not live. Same as before," he said tiredly. "Anyways, we should get going again. I think they fixed the problem." The Latios motioned towards where the APC was toppled. A pair of Machamp dusted their four hands, having pushed the armored vehicle back on its wheels.

As the siblings clambered back into their truck, the others 'mon started when they saw the blood that stained Sirius' normally blue hands. "Sirius," Justine said hesitatingly, staring at him. "What happened?"

He grunted and turned away, not caring about the slowly crusting fluid. "Tired. Don't want to talk about it." The Salamence blinked at his unresponsiveness before turning to Siria. She had a similar weary expression on her face, staring outside as she got a better understanding of what exactly Sirius did day in and day out.

As the truck jolted forward again, several of the passengers managed to get a look at a charred, half-destroyed armored jeep on the side of the road. As they looked back at the Lati pair, it took them little time to figure out what happened. To Siria's immense satisfaction, they remained fairly quiet about the issue, sobering air reigning as only Lamar and Erik whispered to each other. As the others immersed themselves in their own tasks, the Latias stared out at the passing ground, continuing to do so even as it turned from green to white. She bristled at the indication that they were on the way to the Drake Mountains, getting the feeling that what happened today was soon going to be the least of their worries.


	16. Indigenous

I thought the time it took me to upload the last chapter was insane. Now, I'm just wtfing over how much work got piled on me when school started. The next chapters might also take more time to do :(

Thanks to Gala, hironada, and Grammaguy for reviewing, as well as iLateral GX for favoriting!

The four of them spend their first few days in the Drake Mountains and meet a few interesting 'mon. I'll leave exactly who they are for you to read.

* * *

Chapter 16: Indigenous

It was cold in the Drakes. Even though Lamar's tail flame warmed the area around him with a gentle yellow glow, the Latios on the bunk next to his couldn't help but shiver and exhale, watching the hot breath condense in the air. The many other 'mon stuck in the large tent shared his discomfort, all of them finding novel ways to heat themselves. Some, like Sirius, chose to rely on a fellow fire-type, and others without such fortune chose to light a brick of plastic explosives near the tent entrance to generate some warmth instead. The smoke didn't really concern the majority of them; the blizzard winds blowing straight through the closed opposite entrance of the tent chased the toxic fumes out. Neither did the fact that the explosives could possibly destabilize and turn the small campfire into a giant fireball. They could worry about dying from hypothermia first, and they all trusted each other not to do something stupid to upset the fire in the first place, such as dropping a heated cup of coffee on it.

On the bunk above Sirius', Shadrach flipped through a worn field manual for the umpteenth time, having read it to the point where he could almost recite what was on every single page, just like Siria. The skills documented within were vital, though. Out of all the areas where the Halycian Defense had to practice counterinsurgency tactics, Ahan would surely be the area where all of their skills would be put to the test. If the Umbreon had his way, they would all be training right now, but the weather seemed to disagree with his desires. There wasn't a formal CQB training structure erected, either, but the SF and Airborne troops had all the ammunition in the world to spare for practice.

Sirius watched as his "roommate" jumped down from the top bunk and placed the manual in a footlocker. The Umbreon scratched his ear and looked up at the Latios. Of course, out of all the things the dragon could be preoccupied with, it would have to be his game. "Sirius?" Shadrach queried.

He looked up at the black face in front of him. "Yeah?"

"Could you contact Siria again?" The Umbreon crouched, preparing to jump back onto the top bunk.

"About what?"

"Well..." Shadrach paused. He didn't want to directly tell Sirius the somewhat personal message he wanted to convey to the Latias. If the tents weren't gender-segregated, then there would be no problem, but communal bathrooms, showers, and general living all called for practicality over comfort.

It didn't take the dragon long to realize what Shadrach wanted. "Gotcha," he replied with a smile. He tapped into his meager psychic powers, trying to create a solidified link with Siria. The females' tent wasn't too far from the males', so he would have little problems.

Using their in-born bond, he found his sister's rather large psychic presence in no time at all. He reached out to it, first sending, _Hey, Siria_.

Hardly a second passed when she responded with a quick, _What?_

_ Shadrach wants me to say something to you for him. _

_ What?_ she repeated. The Latios swore that she sat up a bit straighter. He couldn't help but crack an enormous grin at her reaction, knowing that she would become embarrassed or pissed at what he said next. Sirius suspected the latter.

_He loooooooooooooooves you._

If the indignant Latias could reach out and slap him from her tent, she would have. However, a slightly toned-down mind crush would have to suffice for now. Shadrach watched interestedly as the dragon below him gritted his teeth, leaned backwards on the bed and clasped his head in agony. "Care to tell me what happened?" he asked the writhing Sirius rather unsympathetically. Chances were that he said something that was either really lewd or really offensive. Hell, for all the Umbreon knew, it could have been a mixture of the two.

"N- nothing," he groaned in response, shaking his head to regain his blurred vision. Arceus, a slap was one thing, but to have his brain feel as if a Ho-Oh was roasting it with Sacred Fire was another!

As Shadrach was going to comment casually on what exactly Sirius said to her, the closed entrance of the tent flew open, allowing a flurry of ice to pelt everybody inside. Several complaints arose in the back, the sudden burst of blizzard killing the 'mons' cooking fire. "Sergeant Shadrach and Sergeant Sirius?" a stocky Walrein called out, completely oblivious to the many glares from the formerly situated 'mon. In contrast to the heavily suited soldiers inside, the ice-type had only an olive-green T-shirt and fatigued pants on, attracting even more of their ire.

Shadrach looked outside at the snowstorm, watching the everlasting screen of white pass through the air. Already all suited up, he jumped down from his bunk and gave a passing glance at Sirius. The dragon gently snarled and threw off the blanket, walking behind the dark-type.

"Sergeant Shadrach," the Umbreon stated. He stiffly saluted the major, who he recognized as the local commanding officer on the first day the 'mon dug in.

The Latios gave a lazy, "Sirius," nonchalant attitude contrasting directly with Shadrach's formality.

The Walrein gave both of them an appraising look before looking outside. "Are the two of you well-dressed?"

Sirius had to repress his urge to belligerently ask, "What are you, blind?" Both of them wore the fatigues they brought with them from FOB Archer, the shipment of winter gear still not having come in. Instead, he nodded in sync with Shadrach, who quite possibly shared the same opinion as he.

"Well, then. Follow me." The Walrein turned around and strode into the storm, obviously unaffected by the sheer cold of the air. Sirius and Shadrach followed, Special Forces mentality shoving down any thought of vocal complaint. That didn't necessarily stop them (especially Sirius) from mentally griping, though. They constantly shielded their faces from the wind, lest a stray crystal hit their eye and cause a nasty little sting. The snow was starting to build on the ground; the two of them had to stomp their way through the foot-high drifts. Most of the time they had no other directional aid besides the ice-type's previous footprints. If they lost track of those, then they would have little idea as to where to go.

However, after two pained, sluggish minutes of marching, the dragon and the dark-type saw the glow of a window through the snowstorm. They staggered the rest of the way, bodies completely numbed from the combination of low temperature and wind chill. Opening the door and rushing in, the two of them sighed and wiped snow off their dress. After a quick survey of the hastily erected command center, they found several others in the room. A familiar Ampharos and an even more familiar Latias at a table and watched them amusedly while a thin, lanky Froslass floated above the ground, conversing with the Walrein. Noticing the two new arrivals, the major motioned for all of them to sit.

The major, positioned at the front, glanced at the faces down the table before beginning his talk. "Now, you all must be wondering why I called you here."

"Why yes, please tell us," Sirius responded, voice laced with a supreme amount of sarcasm. He winced as his sister kicked him under the table.

Ignoring the disdainful comment, he continued, "As you may or may not know, there is a local resistance movement against the Tamsus forces. Like how we are now, they're based in these mountains and make themselves beyond the militia's reach. I'm also told that they have agents among the local population down in the towns. Is that correct, Luna?"

The Froslass curtly bowed her head in response. "Yes, we do. The RM, or Resistance Movement, as we're called, runs operations from here and attacks targets of opportunity, such as vital bridges and other structures. Of course, we would be more successful in these attempts, but-" She took a moment to glare at the major. "It seems that Halcyian troops have been a bit… lackadaisical in getting here."

To his credit, the Walrein didn't avert his gaze from her eyes. He met her scowl and responded, "There were numerous complications. We had to clear the Trinity Woods and push Tamsus back down to Ahan, which was no small effort."

"Push them back down here so that they can renew their efforts in destroying RM."

"Now, look here-"

Levina cleared her throat, breaking the frosty tension between the two of them. "I don't know about you ice-types, but it wasn't exactly an enjoyable experience for us to tread through the snowfields of Mt. Coronet all the way here. And we don't even get any entertainment for the effort, either; all we get is two 'mon bickering back and forth. Can we get to the point?" As the yellow 'mon angrily took a sip of coffee out of a paper cup, Siria couldn't help but admire her straightforwardness. It sure broke through situations that the Latias would be too timid to diffuse.

Both the Walrein and the Froslass looked down abashedly, suddenly realizing how they appeared to the four enlisted 'mon. "Oh yes," the Walrein feigned to remember. "Well, as we move further into the Ahan region, we will begin to come into contact with some anti-Tamsus forces, such as RM. Although these resistance forces may exist in small pockets, they are powerful allies, and will prove to be of great assistance in taking back the land. We must try our best to coordinate with these brave fighters and strike out at Tamsus."

All four of the briefed 'mon knew exactly what their role was: as Special Forces, they were trained to be liaisons first and foremost, the go-to soldiers when working with unfamiliar allied troops. Their main goal was to take the RM's elite 'mon and train them up to SF caliber before engaging in missions. Of course, the trainees would already be versed in unconventional warfare, so only the refinement of their skills would be necessary.

"If you want the summary without the overly patriotic sentiment," Luna said, earning herself a glare from the major, "We need your help in force projection. Our assumption is that if Tamsus knows that there are Halcyian troops here, especially Special Operations Forces members, they'll clear house, which means we can take back Riyaq."

"Riyaq?" Siria asked.

"The city we used to live in before the militia chased us out about…." She paused a minute to count. "Twenty-two years ago. A pretty long time to be living in the Drakes, if you ask me." The Latias feigned no surprise over the number; they were fighting out of caves before she was even born!

"Riyaq is a strategic target. Intelligence reports that Tamsus uses it as a staging ground for their operations as well as a recruitment center. There are several functional factories in the area, though we do not know what is being produced in them," the Walrein complemented.

"Our informants believe that the factories are for small arms and munitions," the other ice-type rejoined. "We've had a few of ours 'work' in the production lines. You know, sabotaging weapons and bullets so that they explode when fired."

The major leaned into the table and narrowed his eyes at her. "Just _how_ much do you know, anyways?"

"Obviously more than you." Luna smirked. "I can give you a list of all the strategic targets that you'll need to take. Like I said, we've been operating twenty-two years and running. It's been nothing less than a miracle that they haven't found us yet."

"We can discuss that at a later time. What we need, though, is to discuss what we're going to do with your soldiers. We need them integrated into our force if we want to begin tactical missions out in Riyaq. I have part of a squad here today, arguably one of our best." The four 'mon nodded at the Froslass. "Our basic squad format will be four Halycian troops and four RM troops. Obviously, yours will provide intelligence and combat experience from Riyaq, and ours will provide extra training, the guns, and the leadership. Training is expected to begin whenever this storm ends, which should be pretty soon if HQ's intel proves right. A week later, we begin operations and take Riyaq back."

Agreeing with this, she stood up. "The timetable seems good enough. The sooner we hit at them, the better. When this storm ends, we will select our best and send them to you for training. Hopefully you can settle on a strategy to take the city. Well, if you have the required intelligence, that is." Ending with a double entendre, she left the SF personnel in the room,letting in a sharp breeze before closing the door.

"The hell is wrong with her?" Levina cholerically snapped as soon as the door shut. "Was I the only 'mon who got the drift that she hated us?" She looked around at the other faces for any hint of reassurance.

The ice-type shook his head somberly. "Well, Luna is quite bitter, especially with the Halcyian Defense. Care to guess why?"

"Tamsus must have killed a relative or a close one of hers," Siria theorized, the Froslass' attitude distinctly reminder her of Wyatt's.

"Her entire city council was executed in the middle of the city, in front of everybody. And not in the traditional bullet to the head style that Tamsus is so fond of. Shadow Balls, many of them. They pulverized the council members into little more than skeletal remains for their resistance against their agenda. We received the detailed report from an unknown party decades ago. I remember; I was only a private working the radios at the time." He involuntarily shuddered. "I had nightmares for quite a while afterwards. I didn't need a picture to imagine what had happened."

An awkward silence filled the room as the Walrein finished his account. "So…" Sirius said, trying to break the stillness.

His utterance broke the Walrein out of his daze. "Anyways, as soon as this storm clears, you will be assigned four RM troops. As I said before, there's a one-week window between now and when operations are to begin. Thus, time is valuable, and you should make every effort to assimilate those soldiers into your squad as quickly as possible. Now, I selected you four to work together for good reason. As I've heard through the grapevine, each one of you specializes in an area so well that you outclass most of your fellow SF 'mon. Shadrach (those of us in the higher echelons have heard _much_ about you, by the way) is responsible for teaching stealth tactics; Levina is responsible for explosives, demolition, and sabotage; Sirius is responsible for physical, special, and status combat; and Siria is responsible for CQB and urban operations."

He looked up from his papers and looked directly at them. "Thus, until we take full possession of Riyaq, you will act as the Alpha Team, the first ones in. You will lead the assault and pave the way for other SF units, should the mission assigned to you be a large operation. When we have a terrible fix, we will call upon your resources. When we need a highly sensitive mission executed, your team will be the one to do it. We're not operating at HTR status here, but high security may be required for some of these operations." All of them blinked at the mention of the Halcyian Tactical Response, the most secretive and isolated service of the military. Rumor had it that HTR troops were fighting an entirely different war against Tamsus, though details were incredibly sparse. All that was known for sure was that the soldiers were the best of the best, surpassing even the Special Operations elements of the other services in skill and ability.

As the major continued to drone on, Siria couldn't help but feel a bit disappointed at this sudden change of command. She was really looking forward to working with her SF trainees; all four of them, especially Tia, had dramatically improved in the month of training before the 10th SF Group left for the Drakes. However, changes were changes, and she chose that she would do her best with the new RM soldiers.

"…to recap, two days from now, you'll start training; in a week, you'll deploy. Clear?"

"Clear," all four monotonously replied.

"Good. You are dismissed."

Relieved, the four of them got up and filed to the door. Shadrach took hold of the knob and tried to push outwards. However, he met unusual resistance; the door would not budge, no matter how much force he put on it. "Hey," he said. "Are we snowed in?"

Siria walked over to a window, looking outside. "There's only a foot and a half of snow outside. You should be able to open it." The Umbreon tried again, but to no avail.

"Shadrach, move." Sirius laid his hands on his shoulders and moved him to the side. Then, pacing backwards a few steps, the Latios took a running start and jumped at the door, planting both of his feet on it in a flying kick. As the ice crusting the door shattered and gave way, he yelped and collapsed on the floor, apparently having pulled a muscle in the endeavor. The customary harsh, cold wind permeated the interior of the building, causing all but the Walrein to shiver.

Levina looked down at the Latios struggling on the ground. "Hey, Siria, you think he'll be alright?"

"No."

"Do you care?"

"…no."

The Ampharos shrugged, giving Sirius a passing look before tramping back outside. Shadrach, on the other hand, knelt down to him. "Hurt somewhere?"

"Yeah," he grunted in response. "Messed up my tendon, but it'll be fine. Just give me a minute." He tried to get up, but failed, crumpling on the floor again. Siria rolled her eyes and also knelt down. Sure, it would be to her immense satisfaction to leave her brother lying there, but she didn't want to bother the major.

Her hands glowed as she put them to the Latios' leg. "Hold still," she ordered as Sirius tried to recoil. "Or I'll do far worse to you than a stretched leg."

"Fine." As the Latias made a couple of passes over his limb, he exercised it, making sure that his sister didn't play a cruel prank of any sort. Standing up, he looked gratefully at her. "Thanks, sis."

Siria nodded at him before heading towards the door. "You could have just used HP Fire, you know."

"Yeah, but that's not as fun, is it?"

She gave him a sarcastic glance before opening the door again, bracing herself against the blunt chill of the storm. Shadrach and Sirius quickly followed her outside, teeth chattering as they braved the journey back to their tents.

* * *

Siria's boots sunk into the fresh snow as she stepped outside. The morning sun in the clear, cloudless sky illuminated the white drifts, newly created by the storm that had just ended hours ago. Her footprints didn't disturb the once-pristine snow, though. The drifts were already marred with depressions caused by wheels, tank treads, and, of course, other footprints of those who began working on construction just as soon as the snowstorm ended. The consistent buzzing of logistics helicopters carrying in all sorts of goods was complimented by roars of flame, all fire-types available working on melting the snow off of the helipads that had been submerged under the snow.

Worrying about what got where and when wasn't her job, though. She made her way to the staging area, seeing a large group of soldiers assembled there. Curiously, they didn't wear Halcian-issued fatigues; their dress could be found in any civilian department store. Based on this small fact, she realized that they were the RM troops that the Walrein had talked about in the briefing. The Latias watched as a gruff Nidoking ordered them to organize, stand at attention, march…. They were then ushered into a large tent, where SF personnel would conduct interviews to omit the 'mon that appeared to pose a security risk or didn't meet the stringent qualifications expected of them. Only then would the remaining soldiers be forwarded to SF soldiers for training and integration.

Siria turned away from the scene, hearing the sound of crunching snow behind her. An Umbreon walked up, paws firmly lodged in his fatigue pockets. "So?" he asked. "How many do you think there'll be at the end?"

"Probably half, maybe a third. Their definition of top-notch is different from ours, so a lot of them will be deferred to the regular Army instead." She suddenly sneezed, the icy climate of the Drakes finally getting the best of her type weakness.

"Why are you out here, anyways? It's pretty cold."

After another sneeze, she managed to work out, "Just wanted to see what they were doing. Command didn't issue any orders yet."

"Not officially, no, but we still need to get everything going. Some of the guys down at communications need their infrastructure set up. C4I and all of that." He motioned to a helicopter on the landing pad a distance away from them, tandem rotors whining loudly as 'mon rolled racks of computers and servers out of the cargo bay.

Agreeing with him, Siria was about to move out when she realized that she didn't have a bearing on where everything was. Noticing the confusion on her face, Shadrach said, "Near the command center we were in a few days ago. Just follow them." He pointed out to the trail of soldiers departing the helipad. The chopper was already flying out of view, undoubtedly returning to a nearby joint base for more supplies.

The two of them began to walk in silence, ambient noise of construction work and shouting filling the air between them. "Siria, what missions are we going to be assigned?" the Umbreon abruptly asked.

Looking at him, she repeated, "Command hasn't given me any orders as of yet, so I don't know."

"Even though you're a Staff Sergeant?"

"Yes," she sighed. "Why do you ask, though? It's probably going to be what's outlined in the manual. We have two weeks, including the one involved in training the RMs, before the main force sweeps in, so we'll need to disrupt vital facilities, supply lines, and anything else that'll facilitate the Army's capture."

Shadrach glanced downwards. "I meant, well, in terms of… safety." Hesitation caused the last word to come out less readily than usual.

The Latias' pace slowed a bit as she considered his statement. This was an entire new dimension to her; she had never viewed the Umbreon as one that would be concerned about safety, especially in an industry where it was possible for an entire squad to be wiped out on a single mission. "What do you mean by safety?"

"I was just thinking about a few days ago, in the convoy from Archer to here. After that attack, I lost sight of you for half an hour, and then when you return both you and your brother were covered in blood. Although saying this will probably make me sounds weak," he said with a twisted expression, "I was a bit worried for you. The first thing I thought was that you got hurt in some way."

Siria blinked in sudden recognition. Out of all the things she carried out of that disgusting experience, how the Umbreon would feel never really occurred to her. "Don't worry about me," she reassured, trying to set his mind at ease. "You're not the only one who can pull his own weight."

"I know, but it's just that… what if on one of these missions-"

"One of us gets left behind? Or injured? Or even killed?" He widened his eyes as he considered each situation. Noticing this, Siria said, "Shadrach, I thought you saw everything realistically, especially since you've been doing Special Forces longer than I have. But," she continued in consolation, "I'll try my best to stay alive. Just don't worry about it. Focus on keeping yourself alive first."

The Umbreon sighed and looked away, his mind filled with many conflicting thoughts. Sure, her reassurances warmed him a little, but as she said before, he couldn't detract from the sheer probability of either one of them being gravely wounded or lost in battle. Then he turned as he felt a hand on his shoulder.

"Shadrach," the Latias said sternly, hazel eyes focused on him. "I think the same things you do every time we go out on a mission or even a patrol. But remember the promise you made?" He nodded slowly; how could he forget such an event so quickly? "Just keep that in mind. I know I will"

The Umbreon looked back at her, taking note of her earnest tone. In spite of the seriousness of her demand, he couldn't help but grin, stowing his reservations away and deciding to trust the girl besides him. "Alright, Siria."

"Good!" she exclaimed in response. The two of them now stood in front of the communications center. The large building was already constructed, but its interior was not so organized. 'mon bustled here and there, carrying equipment from several carts in a corner and setting them in various places. A Feraligatr with a clipboard stood in front of the carts, checking off items on a clipboard.

Looking outside, the water-type noticed the Umbreon and the Latias. "You two! Get in here and help!" he shouted. Heeding the call, they entered the building. "Take these," he said, roughly shoving a pair of large cables in Shadrach's hands, "Hook these up to the server over there and link them to the comps over there. Sai will help you if you got any questions."

"Say what?" A voice came out of a computer that a Murkrow was carrying, nearly scaring him into dropping it. Shadrach shot the Feraligatr a quizzical look.

"Porygon," he hastily explained. "Don't ask."

The computer spoke again. "I'm just doing software updates, dude. Nothing else."

"Yeah, when you're on duty, that is. Arceus knows what you do in your spare time."

"Axe, that internet history was _not_ mine, I swear. It was…."

Not wanting to hear the rest of the discourse, Shadrach led Siria over to the server, trying to match the cable plugs with the proper receptacles. "Hmm… do you know how to do this?" he asked her.

"Red goes in slot four. Green goes in slot six. One and three are reserved for other protocols. Five is for encryption," she rattled off.

"Oh, ok, thanks." Shadrach began to look for the openings she mentioned. As he lodged the red cable in, he then realized who he was talking to. "Wait, what? How did you know that?"

"I read some manuals a few years ago. I was one of the IT's at my school as well, though nothing they had compares to the military's technology." Shadrach took all of this information in. Factoring her photographic memory in with her previous work experience, it would only make sense that she was good with military-issued computers.

The two of them worked laboriously until the clock struck two, pushing terminals here, connecting wires there, installing a fresh OS in a set of malfunctioning computers, and consistently tuning out Sai and Axe's bickering. As they walked outside, they were for once glad for the cool wind of the Drake Mountains. The temperature inside the hardly ventilated building was almost intolerable.

Shadrach sat on a large rock, taking a packet of rations from his pack. He sliced the paper seal open with a knife, spilling out the contents of the bag in front of him. Sifting through the various packages, he noticed that the portable chemical heater was not included. The food was arguably uneatable even when heated, but if he had to choose between a cold inedible meal and a hot one, he would definitely favor the latter. "Siria, can I get a favor?"

The Latias sat cross-legged on the ground. Actually, "sitting" would be a misnomer; she chose to float a couple of inches above the detested snow instead. "Yes?"

"Can you light this?" He held the paper bag up. "I guess the machines forgot to give me a heater."

She silently put her fork down and generated a tiny fireball, flicking it at the bag Shadrach placed on the stone surface before him. It caught fire, creating a warm fire. "Thanks Siria," he said gratefully. However, another problem then struck him. The heater in question was actually a bag that he could put his plastic food tray in; he only had to add water and seal the heater to warm the entrée. The Umbreon had no other way of heating his food besides hanging it over the fire or chucking it in and seeing how much melted plastic he could consume before his intestines clogged up. He didn't have anything that would let him heat it with the former method, though.

As he wrestled with this slight problem, a Nidoking approached the two of them, leading four other 'mon behind him. "Staff Sergeant Siria?" he asked of them formally.

The Latias in question stood up and saluted him. "Sir." Meal forgotten, Shadrach watched them with interest.

He stood aside and let her get a better look at the four behind him. "These are the four RMs assigned to you." Looking from left to right, she saw a Gabite, a Vaporeon, a Leafeon, and a Tropius. She was a bit puzzled, seeing that three of the four mountain-dwellers were weak to ice.

She stepped forward to the Tropius, who appeared to be the oldest of the group. "I'm Siria," the Latias said, extending a hand. The Nidoking took the opportunity to retreat quietly, not wanting to disrupt the initial meeting.

The grass-type took her greeting, rustling his leaves as he did so. "Talal," he lightly replied. Motioning towards the other three, he continued, "Din and Jul, the brothers." The Vaporeon and Leafeon bowed their heads. "And she's-" The Tropius let out a string of syllables that neither Siria nor Shadrach could fully comprehend.

"Could you repeat that again?" Siria said calmly. She knew better than to appear confused; giving off that first impression to 'mon of any culture would undoubtedly make her efforts at connecting with them far harder.

Talal grinned at the Gabite and shrugged. "We just call her Nuwai because I'm the only 'mon who knows how to say her full name. It means 'little fire,' which fits her current status."

The blue dragon glowered at him, fins reddening slightly. "Talal…."

"Don't worry about it," he returned. "When you finally evolve to a Garchomp, your name will change to reflect that."

"Thank you. Though I don't know if I'll ever get there…."

The Vaporeon looked at her and smiled. "Just give it time. Practice makes perfect, as they say. Not to mention you're quite young to have such aspirations; you're years ahead of any other Gabite I've known in my life."

She had obviously heard Din's reassurances before, though. "You've always told me that, but it never happens! I know I'm rather young, but do you know any other Gabite that's stayed in their second stage for so long? I train every waking hour when I don't have operations, but I haven't changed at all."

As he was about to respond, Talal cut him off. "Now Nuwai, I think we've had this discussion about your evolution before. Most of your species evolves to the third stage when they're twenty to twenty five, and you're only fourteen! Take Din's advice and give it some time. And besides, we're ignoring our gracious hosts, aren't we?" Siria blushed; apart from offering a culturally correct greeting, she hadn't done anything else to make them feel welcome.

Shadrach, having packed up his meal during the discussion, slid off the rock and walked up next to Siria. "Have you eaten lunch yet?" he asked them. "If you haven't, there is a dining hall near here. The only meals we have are field rations, though. My apologies, but we haven't been able to receive anything but the bare necessities since the development of FOB Fearow."

"Thank you for the offer, but we have our own food." The Tropius reached into his pack and showed him a large chunk of bread wrapped in paper. "This, as well as the other supplies we carry, lasts us for up to a week without assistance."

Both of them nodded at the information. "Well, then," Siria said. "Since that we're all ready, shall we begin assessment?" She glanced towards the Umbreon besides her. _Sorry Shadrach. I promise I'll make it up for you later_, she communicated telepathically to him, adding a hint of playfulness at the end. Looking towards her, he nodded and smiled a bit.

All four of the RM troops nodded, the Gabite especially eager to beginning training. However, what they were about to face was not like anything the expected. _Shadrach, one more thing. Can you start off with tactics? I need to call my brother to get himself and Levina here. We can't start the physical part without them._

The Umbreon nodded. "So," he began, as Siria wandered away. "Let's suppose that we want to enter a room house and rescue a hostage. It is known that there are, at maximum, five enemy combatants inside. How would you do it?"

The RMs blinked for a minute. They had been expecting physical tests or marksmanship assessments, not a question. Talal, the aged one of them, was unsurprisingly the first to recover. Chuckling softly, he asked, "How many soldiers are we allotted?"

"Four soldiers."

"What weapons platforms?"

"Any small arms, any grenades, any explosives, and any special attacks."

"What are the enemy's weapons platforms?"

"The same thing."

"Are there any windows?"

"No."

"What is the door's structure?"

"Wood, one bolt, one knob."

"How many tumblers does the lock have?"

"Five."

"Is it locked?"

"No."

"Last question," the Tropius asked, still grinning widely. "What is the construction of the building?"

"Standard concrete." Shadrach was at a loss as to why Talal would ask so many questions. Few of them were pertinent to the mission….

The grass-type put a paw to his chin. "Hmm, based on that information, I could form a possible response. But," he continued, beaming at the Gabite besides him, "I'm sure you could answer it best, Nuwai."

As the dragon scowled at him, the Umbreon then understood Talal's near-useless questions. They were designed to entrap her so that she would be confused as to what procedure she would have to utilize.

"Well..." she began, eyes narrowed in concentration. "I suppose that we could first use Din to leak some water under the door and freeze their feet to the ground. Then we could enter as they're trying to get themselves unstuck."

"Wouldn't the enemy choose to kill the hostage if they knew you were coming for them?" Talal pointedly asked before Shadrach could comment.

The Gabite thought again. "Use explosive charges to blow off the door and stun the enemy while we kill them?"

"The shrapnel may kill the hostage, and the surviving enemies will if that doesn't."

"How about… we open the door and use your Sweet Scent to make them less aware?"

The Tropius knew that flash-bang grenades were the best weapon of choice, but he didn't want to rob her of the educational lesson. "That could work. Continue."

"Then we go in and kill them," she succinctly finished.

"Kill them how?"

"Just go inside and start attacking targets of opportunity."

"Ah, that may also work," Talal commented. "But when you do that, there's a 'mon hiding in the corner. He shoots you dead. What is your next course of action?" He grinned humorously at her flustered features.

"Well…" she trailed, persistence never wavering. "Well…."

The grass-type sighed. "Although you may be a 'little fire,' you certainly put up a valiant struggle. The probability that you will arrive at the best answer is small." He passed off the glare she gave him with a knowing smile. "Nuwai, I hope you've learned something from this; it's something I told you some time ago, but I believe that you've forgotten. You can have all the power in the world, but you will fail without tactics. After all, power is not all there is to battle. What good is a rifle if you do not know how to use it? As it was once said, 'To fight and conquer in all your battles is not supreme excellence. Supreme excellence consists of….'" He peered at her, expecting the Gabite to finish the sentence.

"'...consists of breaking the enemy's resistance without fighting,'" she finished, disappointment written all over her face.

"Correct! I'm glad you remembered at least a bit of what I've told you. Anyways," Talal said, glancing at the Umbreon. "I apologize for the little conversation, but I'll answer your question now." He cleared his throat. "The four 'mon will stack up against the wall first. Then, the second 'mon will take a flashbang and toss it in when the first 'mon opens the door. After it detonates, the first 'mon will sweep down the right; the second, the left; the third, the left center; and the fourth, the right center. They will call out 'Contact!' when they see an enemy, and engage them in the millisecond thereafter. When there are no enemies to be seen, they will call out 'Clear!' Did I miss anything, Sergeant?"

Shadrach blinked at the concise explanation, a little more than impressed by Talal's tutelage and explanation. He knew better than to underestimate the RM 'mon, but the Tropius could completely trump him in terms of teaching, not to mention earn a high-ranking position on Special Forces. "No," he replied, completely nonplussed. "You got everything perfectly."

"Good. We usually don't have the force of numbers to carry out something like that often, but it's a nice trick to know." He smiled pleasantly and looked out at the mountains behind him, leaving the dark-type with a multitude of questions regarding Talal's background and education.

Siria came up next to Shadrach. "Well, what do you think?" she asked rhetorically. Of course the Latias watched the entire thing from the distance, herself duly impressed with the Tropius' abilities.

"He's probably as good as us, if not better," the Umbreon honestly replied. "That Gabite girl, though… how did she make it past the interviewers? She obviously doesn't have the experience of the others."

The Latias shrugged. "Who knows? Perhaps Talal was able to convince them about her. From what I gather, he must be a guardian of some sort of hers, considering how closely they interact for those of their society. As for the girl, I can sense that she has a lot of potential inside her. It's just that…." Siria frowned. "She doesn't know how to access it. She's using the wrong approach, and she'll never get to it if she doesn't change her practices."

"So…." Shadrach exchanged glances with her, not needing to state their mutual goal.

The Latias nodded. "Yes, that's what we're going to do. In this week, we're going to take her from this into a better, more able-"

Her inspiring monologue was suddenly cut off by an outburst above them. All of them looked up, seeing a winged blue figure wrestle with a yellow one.

"Hey, stop moving-" Sirius' request was cut short by a deft smack upside the head as he tried to hug the struggling Ampharos to his body.

"Stop moving? I might as well just let you grope me all over the place. Screw you!" Levina doled out another strike at him, completely unaware of his efforts in not letting her fall into the snow.

The Latios groaned, knowing that he couldn't keep the two of them up for much longer. "Hey, you agreed to this," he countered.

"You never said anything about touching me all over the place!"

"How else do you expect me to fly you? Not on my back; you're too big!"

"Too big, huh? I'll show you!" She let a charge of electricity run up his blue wings, causing them to flatten in paralysis.

Sirius widened his eyes. "What the hell did you d-" Then he went into an uncontrolled dive, unable to use his body to steer his flight. The Latias couldn't help but wince as her brother faceplanted straight into the snow, throwing up a white flurry around him. Levina, somehow completely unharmed from the fall, emerged from the cloud and sent a bolt of electricity back into it for good measure. The unabashed Ampharos made her way to her other two squadmates, who had their mouths gaping in sheer disbelief. Forget the damage that had been done to her brother; RM 'mon judged based on first impressions! Who knew what they thought of the Halcyian Defense now?

Levina was, as usual, obvious to their reactions. "Sorry we were late. _Someone_ had to make a few unwise moves in the middle of flight." As the Latias heard this, she couldn't help but feel that the electric-type had slightly misconstrued her brother's good intentions. Sirius knew better than to try anything risky like that in flight; the last time he flew carelessly, he spent half a month recovering in a medical ward.

Disconcerted, Siria turned back to the four 'mon. "I'm so sorry that you had to see that. We normally don't operate this way; those two had to be called from a remote location, so they tried to get here as fast as possible." The red dragon didn't know if the RMs bought the story as they nodded in seeming understanding.

Her brother walked up besides her. "Hello. I'm Sergeant Sirius. I must also apologize for my misconduct. I hope it won't strain relations between us." Like Siria, he shook hands with Talal, but he also extended his greeting to the three others. Even he knew that if there was a good time to make amends, it would be now.

"Apology accepted," the Tropius said, chuckling.

Din added, "It wouldn't be the first time we saw something like that. Nawai had something similar with Basil one time…."

"Quiet," the Gabite snapped, face turning a shade of purple. She had tremendous respect for Talal, but far less of it for other 'mon not four decades beyond her own age.

"Manners, Nuwai," the sagacious grass-type reprimanded.

"Sorry."

"Anyways," the Latios said. "I'm the 'mon who's supposed to teach you in combat." _Right?_ he asked Siria. She relayed a quick "yes" back to him. "But first, I need to know where each one of you stands in terms of combat. It'll just be an informal battle, probably two or three minutes maximum so that I can get a basic grasp of what we need to work on. So who's first?"

Jul, who had never spoken a word before, stepped forward and volunteered himself. Sirius motioned towards a field some distance away, its surface peppered with only a mild amount of snow. The two of them walked there in complete silence, neither one saying a word to the other. After putting a bit of space between them on the plain, the Latios looked at his opponent. "Ready?" The grass-type assumed a battle stance, paws before his face as he bent his knees.

Sirius started off aggressively to test Jul's defensive skills. He shot an Ice Beam at the 'mon, who erected a Protect shield in response. While the grass-type defended against the super effective blow, the Latios used his incredible speed to attack Jul's rear, readying a Dragon Claw for attack. Just as he brought his glowing claw down, he felt a stinging sensation on his chest, causing him to renege on his attack and withdraw. The Leafeon swung at the dragon with his tail a second time, the normally leafy appendage becoming razor sharp with a Leaf Blade.

_Ok, so he knows his close combat_, Sirius relayed to Siria. She sat on the sidelines, memorizing the entire battle before her. Shadrach and the other three accompanied her, watching the fight unfold between the two 'mon.

The Latios then attacked from a distance, trying to see how the Leafeon would deal against his special attacks. As he let Dragon Pulse after Dragon Pulse rip, Jul managed to dodge every one, practically darting from one target to another as he moved up closer to the Latios. Once close enough, the grass-type used Razor Leaf, letting out a barrage of leaves at Sirius. The dragon knew that his type resistance wouldn't matter in the end; the main intent of the attack was to cut him and force blood loss, possibly turning the tide in the opponent's favor. Snarling, he fired off an HP Fire, fireball incinerating the incoming leaves and threatening to hit the Leafeon. However, Jul was no longer there, the Latios' attack exploding harmlessly on the ground.

He didn't even get a chance to breathe before he felt the wind of the Leafeon's movement behind him. Quickly turning around, he saw Jul swing the blade on his arm at him. He met the attack with a Dragon Claw, seeing the sparks play off of the two sharpened edges as they clashed together. Then, he saw the ground come up quickly to him as the grass-type unceremoniously shot out a leg to kick the Latios down. Sirius had hardly a moment to roll before an X-Scissor attack shredded the ground where his head had used to be, throwing up dirt everywhere.

The next time Jul repeated the action, the Latios was ready. As the Leafeon swung at him again, Sirius avoided the blow, swiveled on his back and planted his feet firmly in the grass-type's chest, sending him sprawling backwards. The dragon didn't give him a chance to get back up; unsheathing his knife, he lunged and jumped on him, holding the sharp blade up to his neck. As he looked at the Leafeon's eyes, he saw something a good measure of what he assumed to be hatred swirl in them.

"Kill me," Jul spat. "Why don't you do it? You're so close."

"'cause that's not my job," Sirius retorted. "I have no reason to kill you anyways."

"If you knew what I've done, you'd have more than enough reason." The grass-type chuckled darkly, keeping perfectly still against Sirius' blade.

Sirius laughed softly in return. "Then it's wouldn't be the best of ideas to tell me, would it?" He withdrew his weapon and stowed it away in his sheath. "Get up," he ordered, extending Jul a hand.

The Leafeon looked condescendingly at the offer for a moment, as if he were contemplating whether to slice it off or not. However, after a quick judgment call, he decided not to, taking the hand and pulling himself up. Sirius led him back to the other 'mon, whose expressions ranged from looks of mildness to those of shock. He glanced at Siria. _You might want to check his psyche out. He's a bit unstable._

_I've noticed_, she replied dryly. The Latias was beginning to have more reservations about the interviewers; usually someone as deranged as Jul would have immediately been thrown out as a candidate.

He asked more publically, "Who's next?"

Din got up. "Well, since Jun already went, I guess I'll go. Sirius nodded and led the Vaporeon out to the field.

As the two began to fight, the Latias studied Jul. He seemed to stare out at nothingness, far removed from the real world. As she tried to figure him out, she felt someone sit next to her. "Wondering about him?" Talal asked.

"Yes," she replied. Siria didn't choose to say what exactly she was wondering about in fear of offending the Tropius.

"Hmm… you think he's unfriendly and cold, don't you?" The response made Siria blink in surprise. "And now you're confused!" he laughed. "Siria, I've spent a lifetime reading faces. You might want to keep a check on your expressions; that's how we got a lot of the Tamsus 'mon we interrogated to crack." She flushed at his admonishment. The Latias had known that she would learn a bit from the RM 'mon, but what she didn't expect was a 'mon who was adroit as Talal!

Siria started, "Well…." She still was wary of offending the aged grass-type.

"I'll take that as a yes. Anyways, you don't want to know why. Trust me on that fact. Just stay with the fact that he's a very good fighter. If you want something killed or destroyed, he can probably do it more efficiently than anyone else you ask." Siria was certain that several Special Forces wings as well as HTR would like to contest the claim, but she kept her mouth shut.

A squelching noise caught their attention. Both Sirius and Din walked back to the group, the former soaked wet from head to toe. His boots made the strange sound every time he took a step, and his clumped down stuck out at many odd angles. "Who's-" The Latios sneezed, obviously colder than usual. "Who's-" Another sneeze. "Who's next?" he finally managed to complete before a third sneeze.

"Already, Din?" Talal asked.

The Vaporeon grinned lazily and sat down next to them, slapping his tail fin on the ground. "I lost, but I got a Hydro Pump right in his face. That alone was worth it."

_He can hold his own against normal 'mon, but he's obviously not combat-oriented. It's better to try to work on his support role than to further build on his attacks,_ Sirius told his sister. She fully agreed, committing the assessment to memory.

Nuwai, who was silent the entire time, stood up and faced Sirius. "I'll fight you," she asserted, no small amount of competitiveness apparent in her voice. The Eon dragon made no effort to reciprocate her statement, instead turning around and marching back out to the field. His squelching boots completely belied the serious façade he attempted to project as the aggressive Gabite followed him, claws clenched in anticipation.

The two stood a few meters from each other on the plain. Sirius began, "Same drill. Two to three minute assessment; when I call time, it's over. Got it?" His opponent tersely nodded. "Ok… go!" he announced.

Not a nanosecond after his announcement, Nuwai surged forth with a Dragon Rush, her entire body glowing a dangerous blue as she madly charged at the Latios. He quickly sidestepped to the left, dodging the inaccurate move and allowing her momentum to carry her past him. He loosed a weakened Energy Ball at her back not to damage her, but to see what her reaction would be.

To Sirius' surprise, she made no effort to dodge the green pulsating sphere. She bravely turned around and charged into it, the glow dissipating on her rough blue hide as she revved up with another Dragon Rush. The Latios smirked and prepared to dodge her frenzied attack again. As he stepped to her left, though, she quickly diverted her path and followed him.

SHINK CLANG.

Sirius, having unsheathed his claws, held Nuwai's glowing talons an inch from his throat with his own. He had hardly seen the blur of her Dragon Claw approaching him; his reaction had been based on pure reflex. Then he ducked as another one of her talons slashed at the air where his face once was, the speed at which she attacked creating a distinct whistle. The Gabite was relentless, slashing at him at every opportunity she got.

Duck down, sidestep, hold the attack to reposition the body, duck again…. The Latios continued to dodge and retreat, not "getting" a chance to counter. He knew that he could if he wanted to, but he didn't want to find out how deep of a cut Nuwai's Dragon Claw would create. Moreover, Sirius desired to see how long she could keep at the endeavor.

The backing dragon then felt a bump behind him. Looking behind him for an instant, he saw that his back was against one of the few large boulders curiously scattered on the field. Then he looked back forward at the roaring Gabite, arm swung backwards for another strike. Having no other option, he ducked down as she struck the stone, carving a deep gouge in the rock. As he felt the pebbles strike his head, the Latios blew a gentle Ice Beam at her feet, encouraging ice to grow on them and lock her to the ground. Then, he again darted out of the way as Nuwai brought another scathing slash down on his position.

The Gabite turned to the side to continue assaulting her enemy, but then she felt a solid sensation binding her to the ground. Confused, she tried to lift a foot, but found them frozen to the dirt below her. As she growled and tried to break the ice, Sirius stood a distance away, folding his arms and smirking.

Something about the Latios really ticked Nuwai off. She wasn't sure if was the nonchalantness by which he so easily disabled her, the confident look he constantly wore, or the way he never directly struck out and attacked. The Gabite channeled all of the anger into her struggles, internally rejoicing a bit as she heard a faint cracking in the ice. She strained further and further, hearing more and more pops below her. Sirius didn't seem to take notice; from that distance, all he saw was a finned dragon hopelessly working against her binds.

Nuwai roared mightily as the rest of the ice gave way, shattering into mere crystals as she stamped on the ground and initiated another charge. The Latios looked surprised at first, suddenly aware of the fact that the angry dragon he had trapped was once again on the loose. As she ran at him, she saw that the bastard was coming up close. The Gabite readied her razor-sharp talon in front of her, preparing to slash upwards at him. He was within striking distance now; they were so close that she could hear his breathing. His relaxed breathing.

That pissed her off more than anything else before. It was the straw that broke the Camerupt's back. The Gabite screamed and attacked, dragging her Dragon Claw upwards at his chest. And as she saw the white talon flash before her eyes, Nuwai suddenly felt a light sensation on her neck. Then, her felt her body virtually turn into a block of lead, becoming heavier and heavier. The Gabite saw the Latios' sober face grow more and more distant. Then, as her vision started to blur, she realized that she was falling, falling, falling….

* * *

Sirius knelt down to the unconscious dragon. The pressure point trick worked on any 'mon, no matter what the species was. He congratulated himself on knowing this small fact before picking up the once-ferocious Gabite, carrying her back to the other watching 'mon.

Talal stood up to receive Nuwai. "Impressive," he commented, nodding at the Latios. He bowed his head in return to the complement. "Nuwai's always a feisty one. I thank you for showing her that strength isn't everything."

"It's been a while since someone took her down a few pegs," Din added. "She beats me up all the time, even though I'm her senior by ten years." He pretended to sniffle before grinning again. Jul didn't partake in his brother's humor, instead remaining in the same position as before.

The Latios nodded at both of them before focusing on Talal. He wanted to get the assessments done as quickly as possible; the RMs still needed to get acquainted to base life. The Tropius met his eyes and slowly rose from his seated position. The two of them, just like the rest of those before, walked out to the field.

No words needed to be spoken between the two; the Latios immediately recognized that Talal had been in more than his fair share of battles. Both of them silently assumed battle positions, keeping a firm eye on each other.

Sirius struck out first, leading with a Dragon Claw. He halted, however, when the Tropius blew up a maelstrom of snow and dirt in his face with his leaf-wings. As the Latios wiped at his eyes, he clumsily erected a Protect barrier as he sensed Talal coming up close for a paralyzing Body Slam. The dragon darted up into the air, with the grass-type hot in pursuit.

The Latios enjoyed being in the air; it was his natural environment, where he had full command of where all of his attacks would go. He took advantage of this, aiming a spearing Ice Beam at the Tropius below him. Talal, despite his age, nimbly dodged the attack and returned a Silver Wind. As the bug-type attack passed hardly an inch from his body, Sirius created a web of electricity in the air in an attempt to paralyze the grass-type. Talal appeared to fly straight into the net, hundreds of volts coursing through his body. However, to Sirius' surprise, the body then _poofed _and disappeared. As the dragon realized that he was witness to a Substitute attack, a slight flapping behind him caused him to instinctively dive downwards.

As the Latios made contact with the ground, he shot Ice Beam after Ice Beam up in the air, almost looking like an antiaircraft cannon with the frequency with which he attacked. The Tropius dodged every attack, though, simply twisting his leaf-wing a bit to slightly change his trajectory each time a beam rushed up to greet him. Siria watched with rapt attention; she didn't know if she herself was capable of such maneuvers in such a rapid dive.

Talal's body grew green as he appeared to charge a Leaf Storm. The Latios dodged as a torrential rain of leaves hammered his position, courtesy of the landing Tropius. Seeing an opportunity, Sirius leaped forward and, just as he did to Jul, unsheathed his knife to end the battle. However, in mid-flight, he fell victim to a set of vines as the rose from the ground and curled around his body. He grunted as he fell with a thump. _He hid a Leech Seed in that Leaf Storm!_ he rationalized before charging a HP Fire. The fireball quickly incinerated the sapping vegetation.

As he got up from the ground, he again felt the Tropius' presence behind him. Still wielding his knife, he quickly swiveled and brought it up to the grass-type's neck. "Your choice, Talal," he breathed.

"And yours too." The grass-type chuckled, to Sirius' initial confusion. Then he felt an equally sharp blade against his neck: Talal had extended one of his grassy wings over to the Latios' neck, forming a dangerous Leaf Blade with it. Both of them stared at each other with stern faces, neither showing any signs of doubt or reservation.

Both of them then simultaneously relinquished their weapons and stood at attention, laughing at the ludicrosity of the situation. "Thank you for going easy on me," the Tropius said. "I won't be the optimist and say that I'm 'aging;' I'm fully aware that my skills are tarnished because of my oldness." The Latios simply nodded at this. Although the battle had ended quickly, it was one of the few times in his extensive history of battling that someone had tricked him like that. He had fully expected the grass-type to counter his knife with a Leaf Blade, but he overlooked the Leech Seed hidden within the other attack.

A slightly tired Talal and an extremely exhausted Sirius met the others once again. _Well?_ Siria asked the latter.

_Very good. Better than the rest; almost as good as me_. She could hear him add a slight chuckle at the end.

_Good_. _He'll probably need the least amount of training, which means we can focus on the other three more_. Siria looked over to the four RMs, who were chatting amongst themselves. They were undoubtedly talking about Talal's battle, with Nuwai mimicking a cutting movement at her neck and the Tropius nodding slowly.

"So, Levina," the Latias asked. "You're doing munitions tomorrow, right?"

"Yeah," she responded. "Rifles, demo, C4, calculations, the whole run. Do they know how to do mathematics?"

Siria rolled her eyes. "Yes, Levina. None of them could have been selected if they didn't pass an exam. Don't underestimate them." The Ampharos absorbed this information and gave them another glance.

"So, if we're doing munitions tomorrow, what are we doing the rest of the day then? CQB structure's not up yet, and I don't think HQ's intent is for us to drive them to their knees with exercise."

The Latias gestured at Sirius, who quickly got Shadrach's attention. "We're going to orient them with everyday life here. Facilities, dining, etcetera. I'm as lost as the next 'mon, so Shadrach can take the lead." At the cue, the Umbreon got up and walked over to Talal, striking up a chat with them.

As the four RMs got up and followed the dark-type, Siria pondered the events of the day, recalling all of the observations she made and the notes Sirius provided her with. After a short thought, she came to something of a conclusion. The four of them had one week to teach an extremely motivated but quite temperamental Gabite, a disturbed Leafeon, a surprisingly normal Vaporeon, and an erudite Tropius. It was a strange troop, yes, but a certain part of her actually looked forward to it. After all, what could _possibly_ go wrong?


	17. Shot Over

Ok, so QuestBridge, schoolwork, essays, 200 pages of Invisible Man in two days, etc. I'm feeling pretty dead; forgive me if there are some egregious grammar errors somewhere in this chapter because I didn't proof it too much. Apologies for the delay; things will pick up in a couple of weeks.

Chapter 17: Shot Over

Two iron-clad flying-types flew stealthily through the crisp, cloudless night. The pair of Special Forces Skarmory were on a reconnaissance mission over Riyaq, collecting data on a set of targets that the military was interested in assaulting.

"Hey, Mike," one of them called out, only moving his beak in the process. Even the radar-deflecting suits they were deployed with were useless if either of them deliberately expanded their motionless profiles. Their wings alone had the potential to make them large blips on a radar.

The other Skarmory was scanning the ground below for the first in the list of tangos. "Yeah?"

"See any ack-ack?" he queried, cautious of the high potential of there being anti-air units embedded in the city below. Of course, he hoped to Arceus that there would be none, but he didn't feel that the god was particularly generous to Halcyian troops.

"Not a trace, Charlie. Still gotta be careful though."

Absolute silence reigned between the two steel-types for the next twenty minutes as they coasted in the clean, thin air. The Skarmory named Mike then chose to break radio silence, saying, "Our first target is down there. We have to get in close for the flyover."

"Standard operating procedure?" the other responded.

"Yeah. Alright, let's get the gear started up before we go low."

Charlie fumbled with his suit, trying to find a switch on his right breast. The button activated a high-resolution video camera on his chest, which would provide thousands upon thousands of frames for the intelligence department to pore over before making an educated tactical suggestion. The Skarmory squad could try to coast at their current level to take video, but Tamsus had a nasty way of using incredible disguises to camouflage artillery, tanks, and other military goods from spying eyes far above.

The most rational, as well as the most dangerous, counter was to deploy squads of stealthy, well-armored 'mon to swoop down and gather intelligence. Radio-controlled vehicles would undoubtedly be shot down, and would provide the enemy with much technology that would make the Halcyian Defense very uncomfortable. Hand-picked Special Forces 'mon, on the other hand, were living assets that could adapt to situations, as well as take more shots than a flimsy small electronic plane every could. All Tamsus needed to do was to lodge one bullet in a series of large vital area, such as the tail or the head of the aircraft, to down it.

Mike looked over at his partner. "Ready?"

"Ready as I'll ever be."

Needing no further confirmation, Mike dove downwards, hurtling towards what appeared to be an electrical power plant. Charlie followed, pressing the button to start recording what appeared under him.

The two of them spaced out evenly, holding a flight altitude of hardly fifty feet above the sand-colored rooftops they passed with great speed. Charlie saw desolate alleyways, toppled trash cans, burnt-out frames of destroyed cars, and other facets of everyday life in Riyaq as he effortlessly cut through the night air.

As the Skarmory pair closed on the concrete façade of the power plant, the more inexperienced one of the two heard a slight _plink_ on his left wing. Since his wings were of steel construction, they could take up to .50 caliber rounds; after that, though, they would begin to fold and shatter. Charlie looked fearfully behind him, looking for a source of the shot. Mike pressed onwards, quite unaware of the attack and completely determined to accomplish the primary objective.

Then, as soon as the former was about to message his partner about the stray round, Charlie's vision was filled with a torrent of green. His yellow eyes flashed intelligently as he thought, _Ambush!_ As he spent the single second processing this development, tracer ammunition blazed around him, some bullets hitting him harmlessly and others whizzing mere inches from his face. He knew that he would eventually run out of luck; either the small arms fire would eventually nail a vital part of his body or a Tamsus 'mon would have the sense to lug out a heavy machine gun or worse, an antiaircraft emplacement. Shouting at Mike over the cacophonous din of gunfire, Charlie hit a steep angle, flapping his wings and climbing rapidly to escape the increasingly heavy volume of lead.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the other Skarmory drop like a brick, dropping flecks and shards of red steel as his wings began to fall apart. Cursing wildly, Charlie continued his ascent, knowing that there was no way in hell he would be able to retrieve his comrade's body. As the wind began to force his eyes shut, he instinctively pulled his wings in tight to his body, feeling a sizzling bolt of electricity lance the air right next to him. Suddenly far more anxious for his life than he had ever been before, the Skarmory put all of his energy into escaping the chaos below, flapping harder than he ever had in his entire life.

It appeared that Fate decided to deal him an unlucky card that night. A stray round, one in a thousand, caught up with him and slammed into the side of his face. It had lost almost all of the kinetic energy required to guide it through the tough hide of the steel-type, but the lead's remaining momentum was more than enough to disorient him. Like Mike, Charlie plummeted, unable to concentrate on the task of directing his wings to guide him out of the ambush. As he slowly regained his senses, the Skarmory realized that it was too late to save himself; he was far too close to the ground to engage in any maneuvers that would leave him unscathed. Fire and lightning danced around him, roasting his body and clipping his wings. After a brief, futile struggle against the elemental forces, he succumbed to gravity and hit the dirt with a tremendous thud, heavily scratching his well-kempt steel wings. He painfully dragged himself out of the impacted pavement of the street into a dusty alleyway, tasting blood mixed with gravel in his beak as he let his head drop on the concrete.

Charlie then grasped for his emergency communicator, an asset only to be used in the most desperate of situations. The signal the electronics gave out would undoubtedly tip off even the most ancient of radar installations of his position, but that was the least of his concerns now. Hitting one of the buttons, he whispered roughly, "Romeo Two to Alpha! Romeo Two to Alpha! Romeo One and Two are down! Requesting an extract! I repeat, requesting an-" A foot stamping on his back forced the rest of the air out of the Skarmory's lungs. He spluttered, trying to arc his neck to see what bastard was on his case.

"Hey," a gruff Fearow stated, eyeing the other flying-type contemptuously. "Want to give that to me?"

The Skarmory crushed the plastic communicator in his talons, making sure that the circuitry inside was entirely destroyed. "Fuck you," he breathed in response.

This earned him a chuckle and another press of the enemy's foot. "Well, shit. Looks like I'm not getting a raise. But you know, I'll get some extra money just for finding you in the first place, so it all evens out." the Tamsus 'mon continued. "Nighty-night."

Charlie sighed depressedly, thinking, _How the hell did they know..._ Then, his body slumped instantly as the Fearow gave him a smart kick to the head.

* * *

SHRRK.

"No, that's not it. Try again."

SHRRRRRRRRRRRK.

"Once again." The Latios watched as Nuwai stared out at the mountains and huffed in dissatisfaction.

"Can you show me the technique?" the Gabite asked. "I don't know where I'm messing up."

Sirius picked up a fist-sized stone off the ground. "Sure. Watch carefully." As he tossed it up in the air, Sirius flashed his claws for an instant, reducing the oval shape of the rock into a perfect cube within hardly a second. The stone carving dropped with a muffled thud in the snow. "It's just one, two, three with the slashes. You have to concentrate on orienting the Dragon Claws perfectly at the correct angles. Otherwise, you'll get an imperfect shape." He gestured down towards the many, many failed attempts the other dragon made at the technique.

Nuwai picked up another rock, scowling all the more. She was wise enough to know not to question why Sirius was putting her through these drills; although hewing flawless cubes out of stone may appear to regular 'mon as simply showing off, the precise timings and angles of the cuts were signs of the ability of complete control over the direction, speed, and orientation of hand-based attacks. Such was vital for decisive blows in close quarters combat, in which the goal was to damage the enemy fast enough to retreat and regroup.

SHRRRRRK SHINK.

"Can I see that?" Sirius asked. Nuwai wordlessly handed him the pseudo-cube. He turned it over in his hands, evaluating the quality of her cuts. "Better than before, but you're still rushing it. If you do that, you'll cut other angles too early, and you don't get the sharp corners you normally would. If you rush things in combat, the enemy can see your weak spots easily and hit at them as soon as they dodge a hasty attack. The texture of the sides is also rough, but getting the corners perfect is the primary goal." The mild admonishment caused her to growl gently. She bent down to the pile of stones to pick another one up, thinking absent-mindedly of just how many she had gone through in the past hour.

As she began to throw the stone upwards, Nuwai suddenly stopped before letting it go. "Sirius?"

"Yes?" The Latios tore his gaze away from the mess halls to look at her, dearly wishing that he hadn't skipped breakfast.

"Where are the others?"

The eon dragon opened his mouth to issue a rebuke; it was hardly Special Forces norm to ask anything but pertinent questions during a training session. Then, he reminded himself that the Gabite he was training was barely a teenager, and one who depended on those who were obviously not her parents. Smiling in an attempt to comfort her, he replied, "They're doing demolition with Levina."

Her face fell. "Oh…."

"Don't worry." The Latios chuckled. "You'll learn that stuff later as well. It's pretty good that you're not a guy, at least. They piss her off a lot. Speaking of which, she must be working in a living hell right now."

* * *

"Are you _sure_ you got the calculations right?" a livid Ampharos demanded of the Vaporeon in front of her.

Din grinned in response, only angering Levina even more. "Yes, sir."

"Did you square or cube the diameter?" She motioned towards the two boreholes drilled in the trunk of the large tree.

"Square, sir."

"In which direction will the tree fall?"

The water-type started to load the plastic explosives into one of the holes, prompting the Leafeon besides him to load the other one. "Ahead of us, sir."

Levina rolled her eyes, letting a few sparks play off her hide. "Ok, good. And for Arceus' sake, stop calling me sir. I'm probably the same age as you are."

"Yes, Sergeant Levina, sir," he responded, evoking a dark chuckle out of Jun. The Ampharos snorted, knowing that she could not officially impugn the RM 'mon for using her given title.

After the Eevee evolutions loaded up the tree with explosives and clay, all three of them edged away carefully from the tree, retreating safely behind a large rock formation far enough away from the supposedly minor blast radius. Jun rummaged in the pocket of his snow-grey fatigues for a small detonator, letting his paw hover above the unmistakable large red button. After Levina shouted "Fire in the hole!" quite a few times (her strident voice made not hearing it impossible), she nodded at the Vaporeon.

BOOM.

All three of them had to crane their necks upwards as the entire tree virtually rocketed upwards, pine needles streaming off of the branches as the explosive force below catapulted it far above where Levina demanded it to be felled. As the _thud_ of the tree echoed through the mountains, the severely pissed electric-type wheeled on the Vaporeon. "Din?" she shrieked.

The 'mon in question made a valiant effort to suppress his laughter, but his attempt ultimately failed as he burst out into giggles. "Yes?"

"How much explosive did you pack into the boreholes?"

"I forgot." He shrugged innocently.

The Ampharos' hands crackled threateningly. "Din!"

"Ten! Ten pounds!" the Vaporeon quickly responded, not wanting to be on the receiving end of a doubly vicious Thunderbolt attack.

After a quick mental calculation, Levina dropped her jaw, searching for something to say. As words failed her, she rejoined with another question. "Ten?"

"Ten," the Vaporeon confirmed, now flushing. Both he and the electric-type knew that the amount was far more than the equation suggested.

"Ten!" she now shouted. "The calculations called for two and a half! Are you insane? I ought to fry your ass right here!" A stoic Jun watched as the Ampharos began to charge her hands with brilliant yellow electricity.

"Hold on for a sec-"

With a loud crackle, Levina let a great bolt of thunder rip from her body, arcing it at the Vaporeon. Din leaped to dodge it, but knew that the chances of him getting out of the way in time were slim.

BONG.

The cowering Vaporeon looked up to see a glass-like screen absorb the full brunt of the attack, glowing a slight yellow before disappearing. A Latias, who Din now regarded as an angelic savior, floated down from sky and shot the Ampharos a scathing glare. "Levina?" the red dragon angrily asked. "Did you just try to attack one of the RMs?"

"Did you see that tree fly up?" she defended.

Siria shook her head. "Who _didn't _see it? Word's getting around base as we speak. But that still doesn't give you a right to reprimand him by force. You can issue a court-martial or verbally chew him out until his ears fall off, but you cannot attack him directly. As a superior, I order you to apologize to him."

Both of them stared at the other, neither willing to budge. However, Levina could not keep up the stiff countenance, and broke down into laughter after half a minute. "Dang, Siria, it's only been one month, and you've changed this much? It's like you matured twenty years in the blink of an eye!"

The Latias couldn't help but laugh vibrantly as well, suddenly realizing how prudish she appeared. Attacking another soldier was most definitely a punishable crime, but it was a higher member's responsibility to reprimand the offending individuals in private rather than make him or her lose face in front of all of those watching. That being said, Siria understood from several years of living with Levina that the electric-type's attacks were hardly deadly and designed only to be warning shots.

"Yeah, I know," she sighed. "Ever since the promotion, I've been trying to live up to the rank given to me. Anyways, though, it would be in your best interest to apologize to Din. Elsewise…."

Seizing upon the hint, Levina quickly said, "Sorry, Din. I must have snapped a bit harshly there."

"No problems, no problems," the Vaporeon responded, shakily getting up. "I thought I was dead there for a moment, though. The last time something like that happened to me…." He shuddered involuntarily, reliving some memories undoubted collected in past missions.

Siria's sympathetic thoughts were cut short by a loud, energetic flapping above her. A body flanked by four leafy wings dropped downwards to their position in a controlled dive, attracting the attention of all. Talal set his feet in the snow, wiping sweat off his forehead and grinning widely. "Nothing like a nice, easy flight to start off the morning," the Tropius commented, causing the Latias to look weirdly at him. The daily course that all flying-types flew was twice as rigorous as the regular Army schedule's, and the aged 'mon didn't appear to have, in his words, a "nice, easy flight."

"Oh, Siria," he continued, turning towards her. "On my way here, an officer gave me something to give you, saying that it was urgent. I'll tell you, those Pidgeots can fly fast when they want to. He covered my distance in a fifth of the time!"

The Latias took the manila envelope from the chuckling Talal. At first she was a bit surprised that a soldier would trust a non-enlisted indigenous 'mon with official Halcyian Defense files, but then she remembered just who exactly she was talking to. As the Tropius began to converse with the other three, Siria wandered a distance away before opening the letter. She was first surprised, then apprehensive, of what the official-looking text of the message contained.

xxxxx

MEMORANDUM FOR ALPHA TEAM, SPECIAL FORCES GROUP 11

Subject: Extraction of Romeo Team Five

A reconnaissance team sent out a distress signal over location [-82.21441, -114.78516] at local time 0332, April 16th. The mission goal was to obtain intelligence regarding several classified targets. It is assumed that antiaircraft fire is responsible for the loss of Romeo Team Five. The transponder and data transmissions are no longer active. The members of Romeo Team Five are now labeled as missing in action. Further intelligence suggests that they are held as prisoners of war in an area proximal to their last known position. Several attempts have been made to extract Romeo Team Five; however, extreme ground fire and uncharacteristic Tamsus resistance have blocked successful extractions. Thus, covert extraction under night conditions is necessary.

Alpha Team of Special Forces Group 11 is tasked with the mission of extracting Romeo Team Five from this location. Intelligence on the position and structure of the area is included in this message. The mission will commence in a minimum of 24 hours. All assets are available upon request of the head of Alpha Team. Alpha Team will be inserted by transport helicopter. It is the discretion of the head of Alpha Team to choose the method of execution and exfiltration.

For the head of Alpha Team:

General A. Alem

xxxxx

Siria frowned at the loopy, ornate signature of their high-ranking commander. They were promised a weeks in training, but instead, they would only get one more day. Even more unfortunate was the fact that no one knew the particulars of the location they would have to extract the felled Skarmory squad from, meaning that all of them would have to train for every scenario possible. She sighed and scratched the back of her head, wondering how they would be able to compress all of that training into the remaining time.

"Hey, Siria," an Ampharos shouted. "What gives?"

The Latias walked back to the rest of them at Levina's call. "Well, we have a slight problem. In simple terms, we have an extraction mission in one day."

Levina took the paper and started reading it before Siria could object. "One day? Those other four are pretty valuable, you know."

"You can argue with General Alem, then. I don't think he has the time to consider the fact that we're still working on training the RMs." The dragon looked out at one of the snowy peaks, debating whether to tell Sirius of the sudden issue or not. Her thoughts were quickly interrupted by an outburst from the Ampharos, though.

"Romeo Team Five? Isn't that the one with Charlie on it?" she said in an oddly different voice. Siria blinked with recognition at the name. The Skarmory was a close friend of theirs who they always chatted with on their time off, though it could be said that he was a little more than just a friend to Levina. The Latias knew that the normally cold-hearted Ampharos had somewhat of a crush on the steel-type, and mercilessly teased her about it on multiple occasions. However, Siria wisely understood that now was not the time for such levity.

Noticeably less happy, the electric-type started to rifle through the intelligence given to them. Apparently both of the Romeo Team members were held in a large, abandoned factory by Tamsus forces. The time period now made more sense to her; through torture, it was entirely possible to gain a lot of information out of a 'mon, Special Forces or not, in a mere twenty-four hours. Only HTR 'mon were truly resistant to torture, mostly because they were conditioned to heavy interrogation through repeated drills during training.

"Levina," a voice behind her said. "Are you ok?"

"Yeah, perfectly fine," the Ampharos responded briefly. "All we need to do is extract a couple of Romeo Team members, right? Nothing more than the standard mission." She hmphed and turned her head away from the inquisitive Latias so that the dragon wouldn't see her embarrassment, despite the fact that Siria could probably sense her brainwaves from a mile away.

"Anyways," Levina heard her continue, "I already called Shadrach and Sirius back here, so we'll be able to put together a basic plan and start practicing as soon as possible." She nodded limply in response.

As if having heard Siria's command, a blue figure holding another one swooped down to them. Sirius set the Gabite lightly on the ground, who quickly joined the other three RM 'mon at once. The Latios then walked up to the girls. "See, Levina? That's how you act when I fly you. She didn't have any problems with me, and certainly didn't do anything stupid, such as paralyzing my wings and spending me into a death spiral." He blinked twice as the normally witty electric-type shrugged him off and looked over at the RMs. "Oh, the silent treatment now. I see how it is." He then yelped as Siria grabbed his ear and dragged him to the side.

"Now look," the Latias snapped at her blue-faced brother, shoving the envelope into his hands. "Just shut up and read this."

"But I don't like to-"

"Just do it."

Rolling his eyes, Sirius took the official documents and pored over them, taking their words in. After a minute of sifting through the pages, he looked up. "They got Mike and Charlie? Arceus, I can understand. They were pretty good buddies; definitely ace flyers. They could put everyone but the special elements of the Air Wing to shame, though they never looked down on us for it. Pretty hard to find guys like them these days." He looked back up at his sister's eyes. "But what does that have to do with Levina?"

Siria groaned and put a hand to her face. Of course thick-headed Sirius would never have picked up on the electric-type's desires. "Look, Sirius, Levina has a little… thing for Charlie, and it would be in your best interest to quit talking to her for a while. What we need to do now is start figuring out our tactics for approaching this situation."

It appeared that the Latios hadn't listened past the first sentence, though. "Like how you had a thing for Shadrach?"

SLAP.

"Enough!" Siria fumed, glaring at her wincing brother. "Shut up and come with me. I think Shadrach's here already." She jerked a finger at an approaching black figure.

As the two siblings returned back to the others, Shadrach walked up and asked, "Siria, what happened? Is this something about Romeo Team…?" She nodded at him, causing the Umbreon to sigh. "Damn, I was really hoping the rumors weren't true. Anyways, I'm guessing that we have to do an extraction?"

"Yes. Twenty-four hours." This drew a mutter and a curse from him. "Anyways, we need the console of the RMs. They know the terrain better than we do, and they might even know the exact location of the target."

The four SF 'mon walked up to the four others, who were talking amongst themselves. Siria cleared her throat to attract their attention, leading with "We are currently assigned a mission."

"Mission?" Din asked, interrupting the Latias.

She nodded grimly. "We have twenty-four hours to rehearse and drill for an extraction in Riyaq. Do you happen to know this structure?" Taking the photos out of the envelope, she handed them out among the RMs.

Talal was the first to speak. "Hmm… so it's _that_ place." The dragon frowned at the tone of his voice.

"Isn't that where we lost…" Nuwai trailed off.

The Tropius sighed in response, sneaking a furtive glance at Jun for a brief moment. "Yes, it is." Turning towards Siria, he continued, "Forgive our reticence on this topic. We've operated in this location before quite some time ago. It's where one of our squadmates was killed in an ambush." He continued to look over the images in front of him.

"What kind of facility is this?" Shadrach now asked, taking out a blank notepad to take notes and create a possible sketch.

"It used to be an automobile factory," the Vaporeon replied. "It was in the middle of being retooled as a weapons production facility before Tamsus took over. I think they're using it as a weapons depot now, since they moved their production facilities to a different location. Lots and lots of hiding places in there; Tamsus never really did away with the remaining machinery. Also, there're lots of windows, if you wanted to position a sniper or something. I can give you more details about it later," he assured the madly scribbling Umbreon.

"Getting inside will not be a problem, but getting back out will be very complicated," Talal added, "Especially if you have to carry POWs. I'm certain that you know this, but Tamsus often drugs prisoners to impede rescue attempts. We've created our own antidotes, but they're far from perfect, so what could be a soldier able to fight at full capacity is actually one hardly capable of autonomous movement."

"Antidote?" Sirius asked. "What kind of antidote?"

"We use berry blends. A bit of Pecha, a large amount of Persim, and some Lum as well. Ask Nuwai for specifics; she's the mixer."

The Gabite looked away at his announcement. "Isn't that true, Nuwai?" Talal pressed.

"I'd rather be known as a fighter than a barkeep," she mumbled hotly in response, suddenly far more self-conscious than before.

The Latios laughed. "Nonsense. You can do both. Just look at me!"

"Yeah, because you're such a _perfect_ role model," his sister muttered under her breath.

"Pft. Anyways, you mix drinks, right? Have you tried a Lilycove Breeze yet? You know, one part vodka, three parts Pamtre, one part-"

SLAP.

"You don't need to corrupt her mind," Siria interjected. "I think there are more important things to focus on besides alcohol, such as, you know, this mission?"

"Killjoy."

"Shut up."

"Fine."

"Anyways," she continued, expressively rolling her eyes at him. "What we need is basic intelligence such as floor plans and maps. Hopefully you guys can give us specifics so we can make the extraction as quickly as possible."

All of the RMs' eyes wandered towards Din. "I'm the engineer here, so as I said before, I'll supply info," he said, acutely aware of the attention he garnered.

Shadrach looked at him intently. "So, then. The sooner we plan, the quicker we can get practicing. Anyways, what's the environment around the facility like? Can we designate an LZ close to it without being shot at?"

"Well, I'll need a map to write on first…."

* * *

"Sierra Two to Echo One," a familiar voice buzzed in Siria's ear. "It is a go. I repeat, it is a go."

"Move it!" Siria yelled, tapping Sirius' shoulder twice to signal that he should begin entry. Of course, in reality, a set of explosive charges would have sent a steel door flying into the face of any 'mon unfortunate enough to be standing in front of it. However, they didn't have an entire factory to practice with, so an appropriate mock-up would have to do for now. String and wooden stakes laid out on the ground hundreds of meters beyond them indicated the approximate locations of the obstacles Din had outlined.

The Latias' brother was the first in, mostly because of his ability to both attack and defend simultaneously. The others, which comprised of Jun, Levina, Nuwai, and Talal, would quickly follow, with Siria bringing up the rear as she streamed constant commentary of enemy locations. Her psychic prowess allowed her to gain knowledge of what enemies were where, so she could relay the information to her squadmembers to toss a grenade behind this obstacle or shoot at that enemy waiting to ambush them. A sniper team made up of Din and Shadrach would also provide similar support from outside, relaying any possible enemy positions that the Latias may have missed. Information was the name of the game in this exercise.

The basic plan was for Sirius to attack and neutralize any guards that may be waiting in areas too close for comfort. His adroitness at attacking made him a perfect choice; he could disable a set of enemies in a manner of seconds if everything went to plan. As he took care of them, Nuwai and Jun would space out and lay down suppressing fire on other Tamsus soldiers farther down the factory, waiting for Levina, Siria, and Talal to put down several sets of Light Screens and Sweet Scents to secure an operational space for the invading contingent and disorient other enemies. From there, the six would advance, establishing their presence and continuing to attack any enemies who presented themselves in an undesirable manner. Once the ground floor was completely secured, they would engage each of the smaller rooms in CQB fashion until they found the POWs. Extraction would take place on the roof of the facility, where a transport chopper would do a touch-and-go, picking up the ten 'mon in a matter of seconds before it could attract ground fire.

The soldiers went though the routines; Sirius shot off Dragon Pulses at targets seated in the most inopportune positions while the two RM 'mon who followed him took cover behind any obstacles possible, sending lead flying down range with well-controlled bursts. Then, as Sirius finished tearing apart and incinerating the primary paper targets, Siria set up a Light Screen in front of her, covering their entire position with a giant, rectangular invisible barrier. She let that one fall as Levina set another one up in front of hers, the electric-type sweating in concentration as she used more energy that the more adept dragon did. Talal continuously flapped flower petals down the course; although he looked quite foolish by doing so, none of the others could deny the tactical advantage it gave them.

Siria and Levina continued to switch off on setting up Light Screens, each one of theirs materializing in front of the other as the other three took shots at imaginary targets and threw training grenades, all while moving further forward. Din and Shadrach complimented the effort by giving a running commentary of enemy positions. After a few minutes of continuous advancement, the six-'mon contingent reached the white string that marked the end of the ground floor. "Clear!" Siria shouted, looking around her and finding no "targets" remaining. The other 'mon flipped their safeties on and relaxed as the Latias' announcement marked the end of the drill. They would have also done the CQB portion of the exercise for the several rooms at the far end of the factory, but that required a closed structure because of the flashbang grenades. Additionally, the previous day had all been spent on room-clearing, so they were all confident in their close quarters abilities.

The Umbreon and Vaporeon sniper pair, having pretended to have been sitting on tree ledges, walked over to the other six. "So, what problems do we still have?" Siria quickly asked the arrived Shadrach. Time was of the essence; they had spent the last two hours planning out the attack, and several more setting up the course and practicing on it. By the rate at which they were going, each would end up taking a light nap for four hours before embarking on the mission at 0100. That meant that there was only an hour left to correct any mistakes they made.

"Levina's exposing herself too much to the enemy," he quickly noted. "She needs to be taking cover at _every_ opportunity, not just after she's set up the Light Screen. If she gets knocked while working on it, Siria's going to have to cover for her the entire way through, which isn't the best allocation of resources if you two are going to be throwing attacks out on your off-time." Nuwai's cycling through her rounds too quickly; you don't need to empty a whole magazine each time Siria or Levina puts up a Light Screen. In the real mission, you'll only be given eight thirty-round mags; make every bullet count, since there might be something hairy even after we clear everything."

"Talal's good as is in his support role; all he really needs to improve on is putting more out of that attack more quickly. Hmm… there aren't any particularly glaring problems with Jun, Sirius, or you, though I would advise that you communicate with the others on enemy positions more, Siria. You're too focused on Screening, which is something you can do without too much effort. You need to use that psychic ability more to keep them updated on positions. We snipers can't get everything that's going on inside."

Siria frowned at his analysis not because she objected, but because she knew he was right. Mentally making herself a note, she called, "Alright! We're going to try this a few more times before we quit for the day."

* * *

Charlie saw nothing but black. The solid color dominated his vision as he strained to turn his head left and right. He felt the shackles that held his arms, legs, and wings to a wall, but he could not see them before his eyes. The Skarmory unintentionally groaned, feeling far less than satisfactory as he weakly tried to shake the bonds off of him. After a minute of labored movement, he gave up, collapsing back into as much of a resting position as he possibly could. He then devoted his energy to thinking. _Where am I? What is this place? How long have I been in here? Can I get away? What are they going to do to me?_ However, finding solutions were not a component of his thought process; there was no one to answer his questions.

Suddenly, a brilliant white light dazzled him and scrambled his mind. He looked down and shut his eyelids as his retinas burned from the intensity of the fluorescent lights above him, feeling as if an interrogator had driven a pair of hot iron spikes straight through his eyes. After a minute of coping with the new source, he looked through the slits of his eyes. The Skarmory saw that he was in a small concrete room. The walls, the floor, and the roof were all made of the same, monotonous material. The only exception was the door, which was of a cheap, dilapidated wooden construction. A single light, hanging weakly by a string attached to the ceiling, glowed cheaply in the emptiness of the room. As he panned his head sideways, he received a major shock. Mike was also shackled to the wall, having fallen victim to Tamsus just as Charlie himself did.

"Hey, M-Mike," the Skarmory rasped, noticing that he had an urgent craving for water. "Mike…." However, the other steel-type was not even roused, still stuck in unconsciousness. _Or possibly even a coma_, Charlie theorized. He didn't know, and he was probably never going to know.

His attention was quickly attracted to the sound of the door opening with a slow, painfully piercing creak. A Typhlosion dressed smartly in a white lab coat strolled in, looking down at the two prisoners and smirking. "So, the famed Romeo Team Five," he chuckled. "You two have no idea of how much trouble you've caused us with your recon runs. We've lost a lot because of your antics." Charlie only stared at the recently arrived fire-type, matching the enemy's crimson eyes with his own. Noticing this, the Typhlosion asked, "What is your name, Skarmory?"

"Fuck you… and your questions…" he weakly responded, eyes communicating complete defiance.

The fire-type tutted. "Now, now, that's no way to answer me. You know, under the warfare conventions this nation has so painfully impressed on this region, you're obligated to give me your name, rank, and ID number. May we have that out of you now?"

"Fuck you."

"Isn't that a shame. A soldier – no, wait, a Special Forces soldier – isn't even going to bother abiding by the rules set forth by his military. What kind of trooper does that make you?" The Typhlosion grinned at the prisoner.

"Don't… don't call me trooper, you shitbag."

"Ah. Don't worry about it, trooper. Hmm, this does cause quite a few problems though. Whatever shall we do…." The fire-type continued to muse, giving Charlie an energy boost from an unknown reservoir as he began to work against his restraints again. The Typhlosion then clapped his paws. "Oh, I know! We'll do a little work with your partner there. I think his name is Mike, _Charlie_." As the Skarmory froze at his name, the Tamsus 'mon swiftly strode to the other steel-type, undoing his restraints with a key and dragging him by the neck to the center of the room. He then drew a pistol from a holster on his hip, flipping on the laser and focusing a gleaming red dot on Mike's head.

"Hmm, Charlie, you trooper," the Typhlosion said, relishing the last word. "Is there anything that you'd like to tell me? Otherwise, your friend Mike here will have a relatively large amount of lead added to his diet. Not too good for his health, don't you think?"

As if suddenly hearing the fire-type's talk, the Skarmory at his feet opened his eyes slowly and focused on his partner. "Charlie…" he uttered slowly. "Don't tell him a damn thing." The other steel bird in question was in a complete panic, though. Should he tell the details of their reconnaissance mission to keep Mike alive? Or should he keep his beak shut and be responsible for Mike's death?

"All you have to do is tell me, Charlie, and I'll set you two free," the Tamsus 'mon offered.

"Don't listen to him. He's just going to kill… me, then you after the fact. Don't give him anything, Charlie. Keep quiet."

He grimaced and shouted as the Typhlosion kicked him in the head. "Now, now, enough from the peanut gallery. Charlie, you have to choose. In five seconds I'm going to put a nine millimeter FMJ round in his head, and by the looks of it, I don't think he can dodge. Five," he began.

Charlie sat paralyzed, sweating fiercely as his eyes darted from the menacing figure towering above the both of them down to his best friend.

"Four."

All the Skarmory wanted to do was leave. He didn't care if he left dead or alive; all he wanted to do was be gone.

"Three."

"Remem… remember. Don't ever… tell…" Mike encouraged.

"Two."

The voice of the Typhlosion hypnotized Charlie even more, causing the steel-type shake in head in utter frustration. _What the hell should I do? What the HELL should I do?_

"One."

Life or death. Life or death. Life or death. Charlie bit down on his tongue just to prevent himself from yelling at the top of his lungs.

"Zero."

"Alright! ALRIGHT!" the Skarmory screamed. "I'll tell-"

BANG.

Charlie instinctively closed his eyes as the blood and brain matter of his former friend splashed onto his dirty fatigues. The clear clink of a bullet shell told the steel-type the whole story.

"Well, well," the Typhlosion commented with a sadistic grin, looking down at the corpse's deformed head. Grayish material, streaked with a sickly red, flowed from Mike's body and stained itself on the concrete floor. "Looks like you were a little late there, weren't you, trooper?" He emotionlessly kicked the head, spraying Charlie with more of the Skarmory's internal organs.

The steel-type didn't even notice the flesh strike his face. All he saw was red, a hazy crimson red that colored everything in his vision as his face contorted into a fierce expression he previously thought impossible of himself.

"Oh, are you angry?" The Tamsus insurgent laughed. "Do you want to kill me? Good. Become angry. Hate me. Hate me with all of your heart! Kill me!"

As if heeding his command, Charlie roared and lifted his entire body off the unforgiving concrete ground, snapping the chains that bound him to the walls with brutal force. All he cared about was destroying the Typhlosion that stood in him, the 'mon that took his best friend from him. The Skarmory powered his wings up, going in for a kill with a Steel Wing. They glinted dangerously as they approached the fire-type's neck.

The next thing he felt was an intense flame scoring his entire body. _I'm on fire_, he recognized without alarm as the fire-type mercilessly scorched the entire room with a Flamethrower attack. The Skarmory stumbled and fell, wings and body melting from the incredible heat the Typhlosion subjected him to. Charlie couldn't care, though; if anything, he had died trying his best instead of surrendering. He closed his eyes, hoping that he would be soon put out of his misery. However, the Flamethrower that had marred his entire body a charcoal black suddenly dissipated in a wave of heat. He coughed, tasting some bloody flesh pass out of his beak as his lungs began to disintegrate from within him.

The Typhlosion leaned over his charred body, now poised with a syringe in his paw. The liquid within swirled an opaque black. "Hmm. So close to dying, weren't you? I stopped just in time, though. Aren't I lucky?" The Skarmory materialized no answer. He simply laid there, absolute and overwhelming pain the only thing running through his mind.

Searching for a body part that resembled a neck, the fire-type looked at it oddly for a second before plunging the needle in the incredibly softened steel and pushing the plunger down, forcing the liquid out of the glass container and into Charlie's bloodstream. The tyrannical fire-type chuckled darkly, letting a knowing smile cross his face.

"You'll be wishing you were dead very soon."


	18. Charlie Foxtrot

Work's still coming down in a torrent, but I'd rather write this than a whole term essay.

* * *

Chapter 18: Charlie Foxtrot

"Here we go," a red dragon announced. She glanced over at her brother, who was also dressed in the same clothing as her: a skin-tight black suit tailored to tap into their natural refractory abilities. After her last one got completely ruined in the conflict with the Glaceon, Siria had to call in quite a few favors and do a handsome amount of begging to obtain another one of the expensive experimental suits.

Sirius squirmed on the helipad, very unused to the type of clothing his sister always wore on missions. He couldn't understand how in the hell Siria could actually tolerate the outfit. First of all, it was incredibly itchy; secondly, it didn't buffer the frosty air around him, making him incredibly cold; thirdly, it greatly hampered his ability to get girls, not to mention the various comments the clothing that hugged his body made about his sexuality….

Siria snorted, easily picking up on the Latios' thoughts. "Really, Sirius? We have a mission to attend to, and that's all you can think about?" Not waiting for an answer to the rhetorical question, she kicked off the giant white "H" painted on the smoothed concrete, shimmering into nothingness as she rapidly ascended into the sky. Hardly abashed, he too jumped up, accelerating a bit faster to make up for the large distance Siria already put between them.

Flying gave both of them time to relax and unwind before getting into the heat of the operation. Because of their invisibility, the two were virtually undetectable by any form of antiaircraft defenses. Even Halycian military research and development laboratories haven't come close to creating the detection technology; fortunately, most likely didn't need it if intelligence's assumption that no Lati siblings were under Tamsus' employ. There were only three Pokémon that could turn completely invisible: Latios, Latias, and Mew (an extinct species, according to modern textbooks). Kecleon made a close fourth, but it was incredibly easy for R&D to break the copyright protection in the Devon Scope's programming and tweak it to fit more military-suited and underhanded devices. The detection code infuriated researchers, though, because the main body of it revolved around detecting and analyzing the trademark red zigzag that never left a Kecleon's body even during invisibility. The Latis, on the other hand, left no noticeable mark when they turned invisible. Of course, beyond all of this, the Devon Corporation had tried to accuse the Halycian Defense of theft of intellectual property, but it proved a bit difficult for a company to sue a nation's military.

"Cloud," she heard her brother call out. However, the Latias was too wound up in her thoughts to hear him, and flew straight into the cumulus formation. The millions of tiny droplets sticking to her down and dress was a far better rejuvenator than a cold bucket of water. She first gasped after feeling the wetness slam against her face like a wall; then, she spluttered, having inhaled a fair amount of water vapor. Coughing and wiping at her face, Siria flew upwards out of the cloud. She hated them with a passion. They certainly looked fluffy to an observer from the ground, but that was only a mere deception. If the Latias were slightly more cynical, she would have developed a theory on how clouds were Arceus' deliberate attempts on flying 'mons' lives.

By then the two were circling high above a certain target in Riyaq. Their duty was to provide overwatch security over their squad's landing zone, looking for potential enemies in the area and neutralizing them silently. Since they were so high up, their techniques for executing the latter were slightly altered; Siria had to swoop in low and project a Psychic attack from afar, and Sirius would use the semiautomatic sniper rifle strapped on his back to drop any enemies if his sister couldn't get them. The rifle wouldn't be as precise as a perfectly maintained one because the decreased air temperature would cause the barrel to contract, but the lack of bullet drop would compensate, at least for now. He would have to calibrate the weapon before passing it off to Shadrach when they were on the ground.

Siria looked down into the snaking trails of side streets, backyard, intersections, and alleyways surrounding the landing zone, naturally acute vision allowing her to seeing finer details that others could not. Seeing no threats within the vicinity, she called on her mike, "Echo One to Sierra One. Clear for takeoff, over."

* * *

"Wilco. Sierra One, out." Shadrach closed communications and tapped the helicopter pilot's shoulder. Six Special Forces 'mon watched as the snow-covered ground grew more and more distant from underneath them. The helicopter's engines increased the amount of fuel they drew from the tanks below the main cabin, providing the immense amount of torque required to propel the metal body into flight. The loud thumping of the rotors rattled the buildings now far below the Alpha Team, which was more than ready to carry out the duties assigned to it.

No one talked inside as the chopper began to approach the target city. If the doors were not propped open, something akin to a dull roar would have dominated the air inside, but the deafening howl of the tireless machine quickly drowned out any attempts at intelligible conversation. Even with the mikes and earpieces doled out to each soldier, communication was futile; if they tried to listen to what came out of the plastic bud, all they would hear would be a monotonous _whup, whup, whup_.

Bored beyond belief, Levina tinkered with the night vision goggles she wore on her face. The green-tinted world was hardly a new sight to her; she knew all of the standard quirks of the technology, such as fact that the NVGs distorted her sight so that she'd have to reach a bit farther to grab at something, or that staring at anything bright could blind her for at least ten seconds. Looking out of the door, the Ampharos saw that the ground was no longer covered by snow; the far darker green gravel far below she saw told her that the beginning of the mission would soon come.

She gave a cursory glance at the others sitting on the steel floor behind her. All of them, with the exception of the night-loving Shadrach, wore the same goggles that she did. Someone in logistics had even pulled some strings to get a pair for the young Nuwai, who couldn't fit even the smallest set of NVGs Special Forces had in stock then. Levina had to give them at least some credit for that, despite their multitude of faults and fumbles. She remembered at one time an officer had quipped, "Amateurs talk about tactics, but professionals talk about logistics." The yellow 'mon smiled slightly at the memory, but the expression quickly fled her face as she remembered that the superior was in fact one of the two 'mon Alpha Team was tasked to rescue tonight.

The sound of whistling shells jarred her out of her daydreams. Looking down once again, she saw not flat ground but instead the rooftops of buildings. If any Tamsus insurgent chose to pay attention to the pitch-black helicopter, which was rendered nearly invisible against the backdrop of the new moon night, all of them would be in dire straits. However, it was the opinion of all in the maneuvering transport helicopter that any militiaman beneath them would be more preoccupied with the fifty-plus explosive shells dropping on an electrical power facility half a mile away. The giant explosions the artillery barrage created made the chopper's rotors sound like a Yanma's buzz contrasted against the roar of a jet engine. Even the air raid sirens screaming below were hardly audible.

As the Halcyian attack began to carve generous chunks out of the concrete face of the power plant, Levina observed that the bright white lights of the recently-activated searchlights scattered throughout the city began to fade one by one as the power grid quickly caved in to the artillery strike. The pilot of the helicopter, noticing that this was a rather opportune time for an insertion, pulled back on the throttle, stabilizing the bird into a hovering position. As the rotors' roars quickly devolved to a mere whisper, she saw Shadrach toss a six-inch thick nylon rope out of the side door. The steel weight on the end clacked harshly against the asphalt of an abandoned parking lot, but no one noticed the sound over the cacophony of the artillery shelling. She then followed the escaping Umbreon, taking hold of the rope and wrapping both her hands and knees around it. After her, Talal and the rest of the RMs followed.

Within fifteen seconds, the entirety of Alpha Team was mobile. The insertion helicopter droning overhead made a quick exit after an automatic motor reeled up the rope, leaving no hint of its presence or existence behind. Shadrach motioned towards the others to move into the shadows of an alleyway next to a burned-out storefront, surveying the area around her carefully for any potential enemy patrols. The seven others quickly filed into the darkness, and the Umbreon entered after giving the area behind him a final sweep.

Having concealed themselves properly, the 'mon took out their GPSes to gain somewhat of a bearing on where they were relative to their target. A bold yellow line on the screen linked their unit to a rectangular structure hardly a quarter of a mile away. Nobody spoke a word, all already knowing how exactly they would approach the target.

Siria and Sirius continued to provide overwatch, city below them still remaining a static mosaic of rooftops and passageways. "Echo One to Sierra One. You're free to go," the Latias stated.

"Roger, Echo One," Shadrach returned, recognizing the call signal assigned to him for the mission: he acted the role of lead sniper in the squad, and One was always used as the designation for the leader in a team. Hence, Sierra One.

He peeked his head out of the alleyway, which opened into a large commercial street. Confirming Siria's claims of a lack of combatants or civilians, the Umbreon stole out into the street, taking cover behind the wooden fences of a nearby house. With a modicum of clanking and thumping, seven others stacked up behind him. He stretched his left paw out, indicating for them to stop and observe for enemy activity.

"Still clear. Continue down the path, over," he heard a more masculine voice buzz into his ear.

"Roger, Echo Two."

Again, Shadrach leaned out from behind the fencing, peering down a more suburban road. His feet crunched on gravel as he moved out, decades-old asphalt revealing the more natural state of the ground.

The Lati pair pulling constant surveillance offered words of encouragement as the squad continued to advance. Siria sighed, hardly accepting the nagging feeling that she was beginning to get bored with her task. Everything was going according to plan so far; nothing particularly troublesome had shown up yet-

"Hold! Hold your position!" she hissed, dropping the formal "over" used to indicate awaiting a reply. Her eyes picked up a pair of 'mon walking down a street, about to pass a T-intersection where the squad was positioned.

The Umbreon took a light breath, pressing back harder into the wall of the grocery store whose shadow they were hiding in. The others too heard Siria's warning, and readied themselves appropriately. Shadrach waved for Levina to take his place; the contingency plan usually called for disabling the targets, whether enemy or noncombatant, with a status attack of some sort.

As the members of Alpha Squad breathed shallowly, they could hear the approaching 'mon more clearly.

"-hic- and you know," a labored, drunken voice slurred, "They can go –hic- fuck themselves, you know?"

"Easy on the liquor," a more baritone tone responded. "What will the commander say when he sees you in this sorry state?"

"Well –hic- then he can go fuck himself too." The sound of tinkling glass quickly followed the curse. They heard the other 'mon mutter softly.

"And you know!" the first voice wailed, miserable cry joining the thump of a body falling to the ground. "They think they can come –hic- around and, and just rob me of my work! Take my life an' smash it up like my bottle! It's not fair! Just- just- Motherfucking Tamsus!"

The second one suddenly became nervous and rushed. "Hey, now, keep it down a bit, won't you? They'll come after us if they hear you."

"Well, fuck 'em! Come and trash my shop and make me –hic- enlist, and for what? For some shitty ideology? Sure, they want some-" Shadrach narrowed his eyes at the sound of profuse retching. "Want some recognition and shit," the 'mon gasped. "They got that by torching cars. They fucked my brother eight ways to Sunday! My dad is dead! They killed him in the street! What else could they want?" Despite the obvious effects the alcohol began to have on him, his voice remained clear and understandable.

"Now, look-"

"Look at what –hic-? There's a burnt car, right in front of us! Remember Morge? He sat in that seat yesterday! Now where's he? Up knocking on Arceus' door, that's where!"

More movement; the sound of a body getting up. "We need to get back to base. Aiden won't be pleased if we're late from our patrol."

"Fuck Aiden. Fuck 'em all." But the drunken 'mon seemed to comply despite his denouncement, drawing long, sluggish steps that contrasted against the quick, calculated paces of his partner.

As the sound of footsteps approached the hiding 'mon, the Leafeon among them shouldered the weapon and aimed right down the intersection, flicking the safety off and clearly indicating that he wanted to kill. Shadrach whipped his head back at Jun, bringing his black arm down on the stubby barrel of the submachine gun. The other Eeveelution gave him a glare, but ultimately stood down and turned the safety back on.

"Oh, shit!" the drunken 'mon exclaimed. The two of them now squarely stood in front of the hiding squad. The Umbreon looked over his shoulder as the millisecond of panic he experienced gave way to reflex. He jumped out from behind Levina, drawing his pistol and aiming it straight at the enemy combatants staring down at them. The Ampharos now besides him lashed out with a Thunder Wave, paralyzing both the drunk and the more sober partner into falling on their backs. As she dragged them out of sight, Shadrach managed to get a better look at the two.

A teary, red-eyed Lucario and a bitter-looking Kecleon laid bound by paralysis, arms clasped to their sides. The Body-Binder, as the unfortunate bar-goers Levina often brushed off termed it, left all muscles under the head area in stasis, allowing whoever the Ampharos attacked to apologize, or, in this case, be interrogated.

The steel-type was the first to speak, eyes wide in absolute terror. "I- I swear, I said nothing –hic- about Tamsus! I'm proud to be working for such a free, honest associa-"

"Quiet!" the other indeterminate-typed 'mon spoke. "Can't you see they aren't part of us?" He rolled his long tongue out, trying to reach for a radio on his belt, but the electric-type had no qualms with grabbing the appendage. The Kecleon gagged when the electric-type began to tie it into a set of intricate knots, rendering him both unable to speak or grab anything off his body to threaten the Halcyian soldiers with. Levina then knocked him out with a jab to his temple and propped the body against the wall, knowing that interrogation would be worthless if he couldn't talk.

The first one could not get over what his partner had said, though. "Wait, you 'mon aren't Tamsus?"

Shadrach gave him a cold stare, not knowing if his simpleton state was merely a charade to draw them into divulging vital information. He turned away, saying into his mike, "Siria, can you halt observation and come down here for a minute? I need a scan." The scan he referred to was a brief psychological probe; technically, it was banned under modern warfare conventions, but the sheer value of the tactic completely overrode whatever penalizations they would face. The technique had saved countless lives throughout the years the Halycian Defense warred against Tamsus.

Dust and leaves swirled upwards as an invisible presence nestled itself between Shadrach and Levina. The Latias materialized and looked down at the Lucario. "He's drunk," she said simply.

"I never would've noticed," Din jokingly responded.

Ignoring the jab, Siria placed a hand on the Lucario's forehead. She continued, "I'll try my best with him. Don't expect any results, though. It's hard to get a fix on a drunk's thoughts, especially when you're looking for specific ones." She closed her eyes in concentration, beginning to search for mission-specific data such as enemy holding points and positions.

"You don' have to do that," the steel-type protested, shaking his head. "Those Tamsus bastards took my savings, my life. I'll tell you all you need to know. Honest."

All eyes focused on Siria, silently asking if he was telling the truth. After a brief pause, she opened her eyes again and withdrew her hand. "I can't find any malign intent. If he has some, then it must be subconscious or somewhere he can't access it," she analyzed.

Shadrach glanced at the Latias. "How much more time do we have before we need to start stage two of the operation?"

"Not enough to interrogate him."

A light tap on her shoulder caused her to turn. "May I?" Din asked in a now clipped tone. "If I question him, I can get the data out quicker than any of you." He said this not in an arrogant voice, but rather a subdued one that communicated his uneasiness with remaining in the same position for so long. Siria wordlessly stepped aside so that the Vaporeon could make contact with the Lucario. She then widened her eyes as he slightly gasped.

"No, that can't be- Talal, come here." The grass-type stepped up, slinging his rifle over his back as he approached.

The Tropius first gave the steel-type a quizzical glance before staring in disbelief for the first time any of the Halycian troops had seen. His jaw dropped and quivered. "W-Ward?" Talal asked shakily, voice nearly cracking on the vowel.

"Who's that? I can't focus…."

"Ward! It's me, Talal!" he exclaimed energetically, exposing a side that not even the RM 'mon had seen before.

"Talal… is that some sorta drink or something…?"

"No, old friend, think harder."

The Lucario let out a loud groan, turning his head to the left to exhale some vomit. Having seen this behavior from Sirius (on numerous occasions) and Shadrach (only once), Siria set aside the countless questions teeming in her mind and commented, "We're going to lose him if he remains in this state."

Talal widened his eyes. "What? Lose him? Right," he said, seeming to gain control over his euphoria. "Nuwai, do you have any of that sobering solution?"

The Gabite shook her head. "Zaid knew how to mix it, but he never taught me."

A sudden voice interrupted in all of their ears. "Hey, Nuwai, do you have the standard berry pack that I gave you earlier?" Sirius asked. _Hey, sis, let me borrow your sight, yeah?_ he additionally messaged the Latias. She relented for the time being, allowing him to see what she saw though the technique known to them as sight-sharing.

Nuwai pulled out a decently sized steel carton and flipped the lid, revealing an incredibly organized system of compartments. Each container was filled to the brim with a certain type of berry; the dragon estimated that there must have been around ten different selections inside the box. Two metal flasks sat separate from the other compartments.

"Alright," the Latios began to lecture. "Open the empty bottle and do this mix: five part Persim, two part Pecha, three part Oran, one part Cheri." She picked the respective berries and slid them down into the steel flask. Sirius saw all of this from his sister's eyes, and approvingly instructed, "Now shake it up. There's a smashing mechanism inside that'll grind them up into juice." Nuwai followed, feeling a slightly heavy component sliding up and down as she shook the bottle. She opened the lid, allowing a sweet scent to waft into the air. The Gabite then balked at the next order. "Pour that stuff into the Lucario's mouth."

"What?" she responded. "This is pure concentrate!"

Sirius justified guiltily, "The only mixing agent available is vodka, which is in the other container." His admission evoked an embarrassed sigh from Siria. "Besides, we need him up in a minute, not an hour, so the concentrated drink will only encourage recovery."

Knowing that no time could be lost, she knelt down to the steel-type and tipped the bottle into his mouth, allowing a thick, pinkish fluid to slowly drip out. After the Lucario swallowed (he perceived the drink to be more alcohol), he coughed violently and convulsed, causing Nuwai to draw back as he tried to contain all of the medicine. After a very fitful minute, he ended his flailing, chest heaving up and down from the exertion of the activity. He gingerly drew himself against a wall, making sure not to dirty any part of his body with the vomit drying on the ground beside him.

"Holy… what?" he enunciated in a stronger voice. Almost immediately sobered by the incredibly strong drink, he looked around him, focusing on a brown-and-green face in front of his own. "You… are you…?" He shook his head, trying to clear his still-hazy mind.

"I am Talal, and you are Ward," the Tropius said, beaming brightly at him.

The steel-type murmured, "Talal…," racking his mind for anything associated with the name. Then, he stiffened and sat up straight as the memories came rushing back to him. "Talal! You don't mean to say that you… even after all of these years… is that really you?" Tears began to leak out of Ward's eyes.

The grass-type's eyes were equally misty. "In the flesh and blood, my friend. It's been too long since then; we thought we had lost you."

The Lucario shook his head. "No, no. They spared me; I assume that they believed I would be useful to them. But I held out against them. I resisted their kindness and their torture. I was both pampered like a king and beaten within an inch of my life, but I gave and told nothing. For years it has been like this, up to tonight – I apologize that you had seen me in such a miserable state, with my tongue so loose and groveling to such a despicable enemy."

"Apology accepted," the Tropius chuckled. "It would be of great interest of us if you-"

"Hey," all of their earpieces buzzed. "I know this is brotherly bonding time and stuff, but we're starting to run near the operational time limits here, so you might want to get a move on. Don't forget that we're running a covert mission in enemy territory. Stay frosty; we're Oscar Mike," the Latios jokingly added, remembering a particularly irritating pair of lines from a popular first-person shooter he often played. He refrained from saying the third line, which all of the Halcyians knew was invariably, "Ramirez, do everything!"

The Tropius turned towards Siria. "Is there any way we can include him in our mission?" he asked humbly, realizing the burden he was requesting the Latias to undertake.

"He doesn't look like he's in the best of conditions," she replied, motioning towards the steel-type's emaciated features.

The Lucario objected. "No, I am in good shape. Look-" He stood up and let out a flurry of punches and kicks at the air in front of him. "I can fight, but more importantly, I can lead you to the area and advise. That's the place where I was taken prisoner, after all."

The Latias, pressured by time, made a snap judgment. "Alright. Your call sign is Echo Seven, even though we don't have an additional radio kit or weaponry for you. Follow the lead of your fellow squadmates; there's no time to explain." Having finished her statement, she leaped upwards, becoming invisible once more.

Ward looked at the silent Umbreon. "You're the point 'mon, right? I'll tell you where to go and get you out of any tight fixes. I know I look like a Tamsus 'mon, but you have to trust me," he earnestly beseeched of him.

"We already have our routes planned out, so we don't need instructions. I expect you to hold to your word, though, especially if we get into a 'tight fix,'" Shadrach firmly replied. Looking out once more into the street, he asked of the Lati twins, "Clear? Over."

"Affirmative, no activity below. Proceed, over."

"Wilco."

* * *

The leaves crunched under Levina's feet as she followed the advancing Lati twins in front of her. It had been easy enough disabling the meager guards around the compound, but it would take more than a few Thunder Waves to clear out the inside of the factory and retake two hostages.

All of them stacked up besides a single metal side door. Sirius motioned for her to go forward. Levina did so, heaving her rucksack and taking out a set of premade breaching charges. She took the several rolls of charges and started attaching them vertically near the hinges of the door, eventually creating a three-inch column of explosive material that spanned from the top to the bottom of the door. She moved back to her original position, trailing a cord and detonator that led to a detonator cap embedded in the bottom of the column. Siria began to talk into her mike, undoubtedly checking on all of her units' locations and readiness before entering.

After half a minute on the air, the Latias finally quit communications and gave Levina a terse nod. As Sirius readied a Protect shield in case something in the explosive went awry, the Ampharos held the simple cord in her hand, ready to send an electrical pulse down the wire at any moment. Five seconds later, Siria nodded twice. Levina let a small burst of electricity race down the wire into the breaching charges.

Several things happened in the second it took for her electricity to reach the charges. As the pulse hardly left the Ampharos' body, Shadrach focused his rifle crosshairs on a Tamsus target he had been tracking for the past ten minutes and squeezed the trigger. The bullet broke the sonic barrier and began to form into a liquid lead mass, intense heat of the friction of its flight emulsifying the round. It broke through the thin factory window with ease, causing the glass to shatter and attract other insurgents' attention. The round then travelled the rest of the minimal distance and embedded itself right into the head of an inattentive Nidorino. The bullet spread its liquefied mass among the gray flesh of the poison-type's brain, cooling and creating a permanent mold. Blood arced from the entry wound as Shadrach finished absorbing the harsh recoil of the weapon. The electric pulse was now a quarter of the way down the cord.

As soon as the Umbreon's round burst past the window, Din pressed a button on an olive green, worn detonator. All of the windows on the right side of the factory suddenly exploded into millions of tiny shards, showering the just-panicking enemies below with the gift of Din's large set of well-planted explosives. The electricity was now halfway to the breaching charge.

Siria could virtually see the shattered glass begin to hit the ground as she honed in on a random door guard's mind, searching for the complex that controlled his consciousness. After spending the quarter of a second to locate the prefrontal cortex, she gave it a slight psychic nudge, causing it to shut down for hardly a moment. The time it was out of commission was enough to knock the unfortunate 'mon unconscious, though. The sight of a random soldier dropping would undoubtedly add to the mass chaos and hysteria of the moment. Levina's pulse now was hardly a nanosecond from going into the explosive blocks.

The electricity took the path of least resistance, flowing up the rest of the cord's length and nestling itself finely within a blasting cap. The cap then spurred the detonation of the entire breaching charge, disconnecting the metal from the hinges and causing the door to fall inwards. The operation was now underway.

_Go!_ Levina heard the Latias shout in all of their minds. Paying rapt attention, she saw a blue winged body move into the lingering smoke from the explosives, quickly followed by a red one. Plucking a smoke grenade off her belt, she pulled the pin, moved inside, and hurled it with as much force as she could muster. "Popping smoke!"

As the metal container began to hiss and form the vestiges of a dense, heavy cloud, Levina took the quarter of a second to acquaint herself with the innards of the factory. _Din was right,_ she noted, seeing large wooden crates and shipping containers scattered throughout the facility. To her left ran a giant conveyer belt with large machines dotting the path down to the other side, undoubtedly used to manufacture cars in a past era. There were several lights hanging from the roof, but the lack of electricity made everything dark under the new moon's sky. A couple catwalks above the factory floor held several Tamsus shooters, which prompted her to take cover behind a shipping container as a beam of white energy streaked by.

"Alright, Echo Six, there's a tango behind your cover, frag him there. Echo Two, tango flanking your right, take him out. Echo Four, check a tango on the catwalks," Din continuously streamed, using a pair of binoculars to spot enemies for the advancing Echo team. His Umbreon partner was continually sniping at targets of opportunity with the semiautomatic rifle. The lack of windows made his job considerably easier.

Back on the ground, the Ampharos peered out of the her right corner and shot out a Thunderbolt at a passing Floatzel. The water-type, who was hell-bent on expending every round in his rifle's magazine at Nuwai, yelped and collapsed to the ground with a sizzling _thud_. She then retracted her head as a bullet nailed the metal right next to her eyes.

"Moving up!" she heard Siria yell both in voice and mind. Knowing that she was up, Levina looked for an opportune place to lay down a Light Screen. She looked about twenty yards up, where there were a set of shipping containers favoring their position, and settled on placing her defenses there. The ethereal barrier remained invisible until a bullet or attack hit it. The screen turned a pale pink every time it was struck, passing the energy cost required to sustain itself to Levina. Each time the Light Screen came under assault, it taxed more and more of the electric-type's stamina.

The Ampharos covertly stole from her position to behind another container. She knew that the chances of an attack getting through her barrier and hitting her were slim, but it didn't hurt to be careful. She observed around her as the others began to settle in new positions as well. Nuwai took up a shooting stance behind a wooden crate, sending lead down to the other side of the factory in three-round bursts. As the Gabite began to lay down suppressing fire, Jun clambered up a shipping container, going prone and taking far less controlled shots at the enemies. Siria and Sirius were at opposite ends, each focusing their special attacks at the continuous onslaught. Levina felt a leafy object brush against her back as Talal flapped, sending a barrage of petals and an oddly pleasant scent to the factory's deepest ends.

"Echo Three! Your right!" she heard a voice blare into her ear. Turning towards that position, she saw an Aggron leap out at her, about to punch the ground in front of him to deal a devastating Earthquake attack. As the claw fell towards the ground, Levina could only rationalize that he had been waiting in ambush as the Halcyian-Resistance squad made its way deeper into the facility. She crouched in preparation to jump, not knowing if she would have the time to actually execute the move before the Aggron hit her.

THOCK.

The electric-type was surprised to see a bright blue sphere strike the steel-type in the chest, cutting off his attack and making him stumble backwards. A blue blur then streaked by and positioned itself right in front of him. Ward struck the Aggron in the mouth with a straight right Vacuum Punch, causing another audible crack. As the enemy paused to grab at his now-broken jaw, the Lucario withdrew his paw and finished with a fiery front snap Blaze Kick to the chest, the heat of the attack distorting the air around them. The completely broken steel-type flew and slammed against a wooden crate. It splintered and broke under the force, allowing a battalion's worth of bullets to scatter on the ground.

"Thanks," Levina grunted before attending back to her Light Screen. The steel-type tersely nodded and jumped away, obviously using a combination of speed, range attacks, and close-combat attacks to support the squad in any way he could.

Her efforts only lasted for a few seconds, when she heard the familiar, "Moving up!" She dropped her barrier and looked out at the battlefield. It was nothing short of disastrous; large machinery here and there laid wrecked and burning, obviously victim to the blazing attacks and weapons fire exchanged between the two warring groups. As far as she could see, the ground was covered in brass shells, scorch marks, blood, bodies, or a combination of the four. Looking above her once again, she saw the familiar heavy-duty lights. Her eyes then fell to the ground, where she saw two Tamsus 'mon with an antitank rocket launcher. They hid along the wall, meaning that Din or Shadrach couldn't target, let alone see, them, and Siria was too preoccupied with holding up the screen and relaying the positions of enemies ahead of them.

Although the weapon was tooled for use against armored units, the Ampharos knew that it could cause plenty of damage, especially against "soft" targets like infantry. "Sierra One, can you drop a light for me?" she asked, moving behind another steel container for cover.

"Which one?" the reply came.

"Middle one, closest to the windows."

"Copy that." Hardly a second later, the metal wires of the targeted fixture sparked and frayed, releasing the large light to gravity's hold. The antitank pair hardly had the time to glance upwards at the whistling of the steel object before it crushed the both of them. Threat now averted, Levina looked ahead again, searching for targets of opportunity.

A sudden burst on the radio caught her attention, though. "Echo One, advise that you drop your Light Screen," Din crackled.

"What?" a voice returned. Levina could tell that the Latias was incredibly stressed. "Why?"

The Vaporeon mumbled something before Shadrach took over communications. "This is Sierra One. Siria, cancel it! Now!" he yelled, dropping her formal call sign.

"Alri- oh ARCEUS-"

CRACK.

The Ampharos watched in absolute disbelief as the giant screen Siria created began to bend and crack under a mysterious pressure. After the barrier absorbed all that it could, it gave way and shattered, causing the dragon to scream in pain as the screen drained her energy. A great gust of wind flew down the middle of the battlefield, throwing up shipping containers and even heavy machinery in its devastating wake. Hardly a second after, enemy fire began to pour down on them, unabated by the now-missing Light Screen. For the first time in the conflict, Levina was aware that there was a heavy machine gun nest at the end of the factory as it started unloading bullets down the center of their position. She, along with Nuwai, dodged to the right and took cover. The latter growled, clutching at her arm where a bullet had grazed her.

"Stick together!" the Ampharos heard Sirius roar in front of her. "They're trying to separate us!"

_No,_ she then heard Siria contradictorily order. _Divide and conquer_. _Sirius, take your 'mon up the right. I'll do the left. Shadrach, spot for Sirius. Din, spot for me. Out._ Levina assumed that something had happened to the Latias' voice, but she told herself not to care and keep focused on the mission. The integrity of not just their outfit but all Special Forces troop squadrons relied on being able to trust each other even in the direst of situations.

Sirius shouted, "Follow me!" while motioning at a miraculously unharmed semi-trailer truck. Levina and Nuwai went prone, crawling on their stomachs to avoid being seen by Tamsus riflemen. Once they made it up to the truck, they knelt besides one of the wheels, using the body of the semi-trailer for cover.

"Sierra One, sitrep!" the Latios then requested, not willing to look out of his cover. Levina was also hesitant to set up a Light Screen, knowing that she would have no chance against a blow powerful enough to break Siria's barriers.

"Ahh, up front there's… tango! On the catwalk above you!" Shadrach abruptly exclaimed, noticing a body scoping in at the Halcyians under him.

BLAM BLAM.

Nuwai, expertly aiming upwards, loosed two shots up at the pathway above her. The sound of shrill screaming rose to the ceiling not even a second after the bullets punctured the thin steel of the catwalk. Levina saw the silhouette of a body tumble downwards, thudding on top of the semi-trailer before falling even further to the ground. She watched morosely as a spray of blood flew from under the truck, peppering her rucksack and boots with dark red dots.

All of them heard a clean whistle on the radio. "Nice shot, Echo Four. Anyways, major thing that concerns us is reaching the end. There are about five or six tangos along the way; you advance, I'll neutralize them as you go along. Have your weapons ready though; it's dead 'mon's land out there."

At first not understanding what the Umbreon meant, Levina leaned out from behind the truck. The area ahead of them was completely devoid of cover, bloodied concrete the only protection there. Up at the end, two 'mon in T-shirts and jeans manned a heavy machine gun turret, both dug into their position by a set of sandbags. She charged a Thunderbolt in her hands, focusing to see if she could attack them from her position.

Her vision went blurry for a second as the machine gun crew began to direct fire on her position. The light on the back of the trailer exploded into shards, scratching her face. The Ampharos hastily retracted her head and looked over at the other two. "HMG at ten o'clock!" she shouted over the roar of gunfire.

She saw the Latios widened his eyes at her, and wondered for a second why before a drop of blood splattered the back of her hand. Levina wiped at her chin, feeling a warm wetness there. Feeling her face now, she realized that she must have accrued more than a few incisions from the shattering glass. "Surface wound!" she said. However, the Latios was now yelling into his mike.

"No can do, Echo Two," a voice calmly responded in all of their ears. "I can't see them from here. You're on your own."

Sirius snarled, throwing his body flat on the ground as a high-caliber round tore through the thin metal of the semi-trailer and exited right besides his head. Nuwai and Levina also went prone as another bullet struck the tires.

"Plan!" the Ampharos shouted at him.

"Fuck if I know!"

As she was going to formulate another response, she heard a slight popping come from inside the truck. Levina widened her eyes in fear, knowing exactly what the sound was. It was the spark of a special type of blasting cap the Halycian Defense used, designed to set off the more stable explosives they had. And if there blasting caps going off inside come into contact with a certain type of plastic explosive….

"Sirius! RUN!" she screamed, grabbing Nuwai's claw and running straight out into the open. It didn't matter where they ran; if they remained in their current position, the truck would incinerate them all in an instant. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see the Latios jet backwards, feet completely leaving the ground as he began to fly. Levina pumped her legs even harder, knowing that there could be mere seconds left before the semi-trailer went up in flames. Bullets sparked around her feet as the machine gunners focused on the more conspicuous yellow figure running across the factory floor.

BOOM.

Levina saw a white flash of light before hugging Nuwai to her body and jumping as far as possible. The concussive explosion ripped through the air, tossing her like a ragdoll. The Ampharos and Gabite pair hit the metal of the conveyer belt and slid off of it. The flames of the burning skeleton of the truck cast everything in an eerie orange glow.

The electric-type grunted and came to, trying to figure out where she was and what she was doing. As she looked up, she saw a Sandslash raise a sharpened claw, ready to eviscerate both of them. She shot a hastily charged Power Gem at him, knowing full well that she was going to be in for a lot of pain.

A blur shot past and took the ground-type with it. As Ward swiftly knocked the Sandslash unconscious with Extremespeed, Levina slowly sat up, looking at the Gabite body she guarded from the brunt of the explosion. The Lucario knelt down to the two of them, giving both of them a look-over. When his eyes fell on the dragon, he exclaimed, "Nuwai! What happened?" Then, looking at the accompanying Ampharos, he repeated in a half-compassionate, half-threatening voice, "What happened?"

"Knocked unconscious by the explosion. I did my best to cover her," Levina responded.

He nodded tersely. "I will protect her from here on. You go on ahead and finish the mission. I would only impede the process, after all." Levina turned to advance to a position close to the machine gunners' position.

"Wait!" she heard Ward yell behind her. He leaped behind her and threw up a Protect barrier, averting the path of a stray molten piece of metal. It ricocheted harmlessly off the pale blue guard, finding another place to lodge itself in.

The Ampharos breathed a slight, "Thanks," before moving behind a pair of metal barrels. Observing the burning hulk of the truck, she stated, "We need water on that semi-trailer. If the fire spreads or gets too hot, other materiel may cook off or explode," as calmly as a 'mon watching a raging inferno close to melting everything around it possibly could.

"No can do," she heard Sirius respond. "That HMG has us pinned down. We can't project a Rain Dance because we have to watch the shots." Levina peered out at the machine gun emplacement, where the two 'mon were busy hammering away at what was undoubtedly the main squad's position. As she began to charge yet another Thunderbolt in her hands, a secondary explosion rocked the factory. A fuel tank near the fire evidently was heated to beyond the maximum suggested storage temperature, the Ampharos noted, because it exploded and threw up its flammable contents for the fire to consume. The liquid blaze sprayed anything within its vicinity, one of which was the machine gun crew. The two 'mon quickly caught on fire after the flaming fuel coated the burlap sandbags in front of them, leaving them screaming and clawing at their bodies. As they forsook their entrenched position, two precisely aimed bullets flew down from above and put a permanent end to their misery.

"What about now?" Levina cynically responded, watching the fire continue to eat away at the Tamsus 'mons' bodies.

"I think we're good," Shadrach voiced. As if to affirm his statement, a deluge of water poured down from above as Sirius projected a Rain Dance attack from afar. With an ominous hiss, the water made contact with the fires and evaporated into steam, continuously depriving the flames of combustive fuel. As Levina got wetter and wetter, the fires died down to kindles and popped only slightly as whatever small remaining explosives were consumed.

The Ampharos, listening to the radio, heard a weak "All clear" from Siria. Feeling free to get up, she stood at full height and looked around her again. She counted about fifteen bodies strewn on the ground before her, all of them either victim to Shadrach's sniper fire or the collective attack of the others. Then she looked back at the entrance of the factory, realizing just how isolated she had been from the rest of her squad. Levina traced her steps back to the others. All but Siria were still standing, some with slightly bleeding wounds and others with none at all. The Latias in question was propped up against a concrete barrier, holding her head and moaning softly. Sirius sat besides her, using the berry case Nuwai brought along to create an alleviating medicine.

"What happened?" the electric-type asked, concernedly watching Siria.

Sirius shook a metal canister several times. "Psych concussion. She overexerted herself when she tried to resist that force from earlier. She told me that she didn't know what it was, but she said that it was pretty damn powerful, so…."

"Whatever that thing was is still out there," Shadrach completed, scratching one of his ears. "But we still need to search those rooms in the back. We lost our psychic, so we can't figure out who or what is behind the doors. We also need to leave someone behind to guard her, in case there are still some lingering forces."

"I'll do that," Ward volunteered, looking down at the dragon.

He was surprised at the Umbreon's answer. "No. There are two rooms that need to be struck simultaneously, and we need all the 'monpower we can get. We'll split the remaining forces into two parts. One team will consist of I, Talal, Jul, and Nuwai. The other will have Sirius, Ward, and Din. Levina, you stay behind and tend to Siria. I'm proficient enough with explosives to knock a doorknob out," he assured humorously as she began to voice an objection.

The two fireteams quickly assembled and filtered out of the safe haven. Levina could barely track their bodies as they melted into the shadows. Sighing, she turned back and sat down besides the recouping Siria. She watched the dragon breathe in slowly, and wondered what kind of force could have possibly forced her incredible Special Defense stat to its limits.

"Shadow," the Latias abruptly coughed, as if answering Levina's question.

She blinked at her. "What?"

Siria drew her legs in slowly, wincing as pain coursed through her entire body. "The only thing… that could produce such power is Shadow," she elaborated hoarsely.

"Wait, what's Shadow?"

The dragon opened her mouth to explain, but was interrupted by a voice on the radio. "Alright. One, two, three-"

Two explosions echoed from the back of the factory as the teams went in to clear the rooms and look for hostages.

"Shadow is a drug," Siria continued. "It makes its user extremely… powerful in many ways, but there's a cost to that power. It upsets the natural equilibrium, causing…." She coughed a mixture of blood and saliva on the ground in front of her.

"Siria!"

"Never mind me. Shadow has a tremendous cost…" she trailed off.

The electric-type frowned. "What cost?"

Just as the Latias was about to respond, the radio crackled again. "Echo Three, come down here. There are no tangos, but you might want to check something out. Is Echo One mobile? Over."

Levina looked at the dragon, who responded with a weak nod. "Affirmative, Echo One is mobile. We'll be there in a moment." She got up and offered a hand to Siria. She accepted, and nearly fell as her wiry frame stumbled. As Levina propped the sickly Latias on her shoulder, the two began to walk slowly towards the rooms that the rest of the squad had just cleared.

Shadrach was waiting outside to receive them, submachine gun held under his arm. "Levina, go inside. We need you to look at something. I'll take care of Siria."

The Ampharos was struck with a sense of foreboding. "What exactly do you need me to confirm?" she pointedly asked.

"Just do it," the Umbreon cryptically responded.

Nervous, Levina stepped into the room and wrinkled her nose at the overwhelming smell of smoke and ash. Her eyes watered as she narrowed her eyes, looking at the blackened concrete walls of the small room. Then, her vision settled on a small wooden box with a red-and-silver knife on top of it. She stooped down to it and picked it up in her hands.

Her eyes widened after only a brief examination of the knife. As she turned it over in her hands, Levina realized that it was not a knife she held, but a feather. A Skarmory feather, as sharp as any knife in existence. Mind reeling, she dropped the steel object and pedaled backwards to lean on the charred wall. It fell with a noisy clatter, filling the room with a strident, ringing sound. "No… it can't be…" the Ampharos murmured, absolutely mortified.

She then remembered the box. Quickly kneeling down, she fumbled to undo the small brass padlock on the front, nearly tearing it apart in her frenzy to find the truth. Finally opening it, she saw a dog tag and a pair of sunglasses laid upon a layer of fine, black ash. "Oh, Arceus…." She didn't have to pause to remember that Charlie always wore his trademark glasses wherever he went. All doubt was removed from her mind then: the feather was Charlie's, the personal effects were Charlie's, and the ashes….

The Ampharos sat down hard, staring at the box as if it contained the essence of Darkrai itself. "Levina?" Shadrach called from outside. She heard his boots as they softly struck the concrete. "Levina, what's- oh…."

"Is this for real?" she uttered, unable to come to terms with the fact that the Skarmory she knew and loved was dead.

Saying nothing, Shadrach gently picked up the metal tag from the ashes, wiping at it slightly to get a better look at the name stamped on it. "Huh. It says, "O'Brien, Michael," he commented. "Not Charlie."

Levina stood up and swiped the identification tag from the Umbreon's hands. "What?" she demanded, not believing what he said.

"Didn't Charlie have a partner? I knew his name was Mike or something; you'd swear that they were twins."

"So," the Ampharos started, completely disregarding what Shadrach said. "If these aren't Charlie's, then there's still a chance that…." The inflection of her voice rose a few levels as she realized new hope.

"Yeah. It's possible that he's still alive," he confirmed, replacing the dog tag in its original position. "Though Mike was a good guy too…."

She was filled with renewed energy. "If he's still alive, then where is he? Is he still somewhere in he-"

An incoherent yell filled their earpieces as a giant roar came from the main factory floor. "…shit's hitting the fan!" they heard Sirius phase in. "Shadrach, you might want to see this!"

Shouldering his rifle, he nodded at Levina before edging closer to the door. Looking out both ways, he stole out from the room, with the Ampharos hot on his heels.

"Regroup at the entrance. I've got Echo One," Din advised. "Holy fu- ARGH!" Looking up, Levina saw a compressed wave of air slam into an area beyond her field of vision. As a vaporous white mist formed behind the distorted air the attack ripped through, wood splinters and packing pellets flew upwards, obviously the result of the air burst making contact with a wooden crate or two. Seeing a blue and a red-winged figure propped up behind a shipping container as well as the force of the last attack, they hastened their retreat.

"Sirius! What the hell is happening?" Shadrach yelled over the sound of the wind.

He grunted, "I don't kn-" He quickly set up a Protect barrier, which barely held back another beam of air. "I don't know," he completed, visibly tired from the effort required to block just that one strike.

Just as he uttered those words, a metallic figure rose from the other end of the factory and hovered in the air, flapping lightly to keep afloat. All nine of the Special Forces 'mon, separated into individual groups by the attacks' ferociousness, peered at the steel-type from their cover.

The metal hide of the Skarmory no longer shone a shiny, well-kempt gray but rather a mottled, sickly purple, corrupted with a force that Siria dearly feared. The normally dull burgundy wings now glowed a bright blood red, accompanying the fearsome crimson glow in the former Special Forces soldier's eyes. Spikes protruded from his back at odd angles, creating a seemingly chaotic nest of pointed metal seemingly able to scratch even the hardest of steel surfaces. Appendages that were previously talons appeared more like claws as the Skarmory flashed the foot-long blades at his former friends. The familiar crest on his head was similarly elongated, trailing with a malicious razor-sharp knife rather than the normal blunt end. In contrast, his legs were stubbier, seeming to have been retracted a bit; however, even the otherwise laughable defect didn't distract the Alpha Team members from the sheer horror of the sight they witnessed.

The steel-type cawed shrilly and flapped his mutated wings only once. The minimal effort was more than enough to send a tremendous gust through the entire factory, causing the lights to sway dangerously. Levina shivered at the sensation, not knowing if her gut telling her to bolt was from the sheer power the Skarmory appeared to command or the disgusting, horrifying conclusion she had come up with. "Arceus, is that…" she whispered, hoping that no one would answer her question. However, Shadrach was not one to let questions go unanswered.

"Yeah. That's Charlie."

* * *

Trivia question: Tell me what the title of the chapter means.


	19. Rods from God

Boy, I really should be doing college apps right now... hopefully I'll nail the "M" part of HYPSM (MIT 2015 anyone? ;))

Anyways, enjoy! And another trivia question: find the irl codename for the high-power weapon demonstrated in this chapter.

* * *

Chapter 19: Rods from God

The sound of metal ripping apart greeted the squad's ears as the Skarmory expertly aimed an Air Cutter straight down the middle of the factory, strafing the shipping containers they hid behind with deadly wind power. Levina, along with her other three squadmates, scattered from behind their cover before the attack sliced their metal protection cleanly into two. Rifles and pistols of all sorts spilled out, coating the ground with black metal. The Ampharos noticed Shadrach snarling as they retreated away from the weapons; she knew that he knew that trying to grab even one of them would probably result in his untimely death. They moved behind yet another steel container, knowing that there were only so many left in the compound.

"Echos, what's your status?" she heard Din speak on the radio.

The hoarse reply came from Sirius. "Situation normal: all fucked up! We need a plan, and fast!" The blue dragon had an irritated look on his face, tending to his sickly sister. She appeared to be slightly better, but her white face was still paler than usual, the circular band of red running around her forehead colored a faint pink. "And what the hell happened to him?" he added furiously. "How can a 'mon possibly be as powerful as this?"

"No idea!" Shadrach answered. The Ampharos, abjectly sick to her stomach, knew exactly why, but she didn't feel that stating it was particularly important when compared to, for example, avoiding being turned into diced meat.

Levina then snapped her head to the sound of rapid machine gun fire. Shadrach watched the grey metal 'mon flying above them, switching out an empty magazine for a fresh one in his submachine gun. She observed that as he shot upwards, all the Skarmory had to do was block the attacks with a wing, allowing none of the lead to penetrate his body. Choosing to make the attack more effective, she summoned a Thunderbolt and shooting it upwards. To her great surprise, Charlie absorbed the brunt of the blow instead of dodging, letting sparks fly everywhere as the electricity coursed through his body.

Then she realized something was wrong. The Skarmory was still flying, having shrugged off the at least one megavolt's worth of electric current. And he looked _pissed_.

The two made eye contact for an instant. Levina looked into the crazed, bloodshot, crimson eyes, searching for anything that would remind her of the former shy soul she liked so much. However, she averted her gaze as the steel-type cawed triumphantly, knowing exactly where to aim his next attack.

"Move!" she yelled, watching the other three scatter just before a tremendous gust of wind blew down on their position. She quickly followed, watching as the shipping container that tipped over and slammed on what was once their cover. The Ampharos was certain that she would have been little more than a puddle of blood stained on the ground had she not been more prepared.

Her earpiece continued to crackle with half-broken transmissions. "Echo Two, this is Echo Five," she heard an old yet confident voice ring. "We'll distract him from here; take advantage and fire at will!"

"Roger!" a far younger voice responded. The Latios quickly jumped behind the production conveyer belt and laid flat, trying to gain at least a moment's worth of respite before continuing the assault. The four of them each had their own task then; Siria was attempting to spark a Recover to speed her recovery, but she needed to reach a certain threshold of health before doing so. Shadrach was treating her with even more medicine from his relatively meager medic kit while Sirius and Levina spread out.

The electric-type looked at the Latios. "Thunderbolt doesn't work," she spoke into the microphone, causing a temporary look of panic to grace the latter's face.

"Say what?" the response came. "That can't be possible."

Levina now eyed the Skarmory hovering over the other side of the factory, apparently beginning to direct attacks on the RM element of the squad. "Thunderbolt won't work on him for some reason. Maybe we can status him down with Thunder Wave?" she theorized, wondering if any attacks would work on the Shadow Pokémon. "It's our best shot."

He shook his head in response, making the Ampharos' tail orb glow in frustration. "Stay here and cover me," he warned before leaping out from behind the conveyer belt into the air. Levina dropped her jaw for a moment, not believing that Sirius actually was daring to do one on one combat even after witnessing the steel-type's immense power. _Well, maybe close quarter combat would work_, a voice nagged at her. She watched the blue figure anxiously, not knowing which side to cheer for. On one hand, if Sirius wasn't successful, then they would probably all end up dead. But if he did end the battle here, then that would mean….

The Latios rocketed towards Charlie, who was busy pinning down the other team with destructive blasts of air. He charged a Hidden Power Fire in one of his claws and rammed it straight into the Skarmory's back, hearing the metallic sheen begin to melt and boil against the high temperature of the fireball. The cherry-red metal than disappeared from below him as the other 'mon snarled, not displaying even a remote sense of pain, and turned to face his new enemy.

Sirius was prepared for the very predictable movement, and swung a Dragon Claw at the steel-type's face in an attempt to deprive him of his more basic senses. His claw met more raw steel, though, as the dragon jerked his arm back from the rearing Skarmory and nearly avoided being dismembered by the blade on the latter's head. The other 'mon saw the hesitance and alarm in the movement, and judged it a wise time to launch an attack of his own. Screaming a shrill caw, Charlie swung the blunt side of one of his wings at the Latios' body.

The Latios raised himself several feet in the air and dodged to avoid the potentially deadly blow. He swung a double roundhouse kick at the Skarmory's face, clipping the steel-type's face with a toed boot on the first but firmly imprinting the sole of his other on the purplish metal on the second shot. Charlie's head snapped back, if only for an instant. Then, the maniacal Skarmory lurched forward and bit at the dragon's leg, extracting a piece of flesh and an intricate string of curse words. Distracted by the sudden taste of blood, he snapped his beak and swallowed, savoring the surprisingly tasty food he had just discovered.

The moment was enough to allow the Latios to sneak up behind him and put several thousand volts' worth of electricity into the small of the steel-type's back. Sirius continued to let the energy flow, knowing that he couldn't let up on his foe for an instant. He knew not what surreal powers possessed the 'mon's body, but he understood that they had to be contained quickly.

However, as the Skarmory began to glow red-hot from all the electricity channeled through him, the dragon hardly noticed the steel-type touch a fiery wing against his grayish, downy face. As he felt the magnitude of the heat eating away rapidly at his features, Sirius yelled and distanced himself from the monster, frantically searching for an explanation for the steel-type's resistance. Using a slight Recover to temporarily heal his wounds, the Latios went in for a second attack, charging a blue-tinged Dragon Claw. If special attacks didn't work, then the only choice left was physical.

He ducked under another bright orange wing and struck Charlie with an uppercut, dragging his claw up the steel-type's body from the stomach on. Sparks flashed as nail met metal, and the Skarmory seemed to rear for a moment. However, he then swung a heavily armored wing at the Latios, nailing him right in the side before the dragon could react.

Sirius felt as though he got hammered by a Mamoswine's Ice Shard as the sheer force of the attack knocked him straight into the ground. He bowled into an arrangement of red and green gas tanks, easily breaking through the chain-link fence that housed them separately from the rest of the factory floor. His body knocked the metal askew and evoked a series of _cracks_, a postscript to the message that bones were being broken. He swore he heard one of the cylinders begin to hiss madly, but the Latios was a bit more concerned with his broken state as the blackness of his vision began to recede.

Using a claw to navigate his chest, he confirmed that his right ribcage where the Skarmory slammed him was unsurprisingly broken. A quick pass over the rest of his body revealed a dislocated left shoulder and a slight hip fracture, most likely resulting from the unforgiving metal of the canisters. He swore madly as he began to use Recover to treat all of the broken areas. Many 'mon envied the ability to use a healing move, but they hardly knew how painful it was to actually piece the more heavily injured parts back together into a respectable state.

Charlie now came swooping down, planting his ivory talons on the ground and growling at the dragon. Drool dripped down from the bird's beak, leaving Sirius wondering whether the Skarmory was attacking them out of a desire to kill or eat him. Either way, the unhealthy purple dye the steel-type appeared to be bathed in unnerved him quite a bit as he tried to analyze what exactly had happened to Charlie. However, he was not granted the time to think; a nearly-solid air column came rushing down at him. Sirius scrambled to get out of the way, flying outwards and away from the homicidal Skarmory.

Looking behind him, he watched the attack rip open a few gas tanks with a nearly explosive _bang_, the simple metal not able to withstand the pressure the air put against it. As he began to turn away, he noticed the color of a flying piece out of a corner of his eye. It was a dull maroon red, giving him somewhat of a hint of what the tank contained.

_If it's acetylene, then…_ Sirius rapidly thought, wondering how far the welding gas could disperse in the fraction of a second after its release. _But I don't have a spark lighter…._

_Are you crazy?_ another voice intrusively butted in. It was unmistakably Siria, who must have been somewhat roused by Sirius' medicine. _Why don't you think with your head for once? You don't need a spark lighter to combust it, just fire of any kind! What the hell did they teach you in shop anyways? Seriously. And yes, it's acetylene. Have you seen what kind of facility this is? That's right, it's a car factory. Arceus, why don't you ever…._

Paying little attention to the ranting dragon, the Latios charged a particularly unstable Hidden Power Fire in his hand, flicking the tiny sphere outwards at the emerging Skarmory. It sparked and fizzled in its flight.

Sirius knew that the attack was a resounding success when a glaring white light filled his vision. All of the acetylene in the air combusted, sending a giant shock wave pealing through the factory. The Latios tumbled in the air as the compressed air nailed him straight in the face. Windows cracked and shattered under the pressure as the remaining gas tanks began to cook in the flaming remnants of the explosion, heating to a level that any normal 'mon would be very uncomfortable with. One of the gas cylinders, which the Latios later judged to be a defective one, exploded prematurely and rapidly cartwheeled in the air, nestling its giant mass straight into the escaping Skarmory's back.

Even the steel-type couldn't resist the sheer force of two hundred pounds of solid steel slamming into him. The strident sound of metal scratching against metal attracted Sirius' immediate attention as Charlie hit the floor hard, steel gas tank gratuitously rolling over the Skarmory's melted head onto the concrete to finish burning off somewhere else. Very scared about what similar fate he could share with his adversary, Sirius flew back to his original location where he first attacked from. He ducked as another flaming tank narrowly grazed his head, causing him to eye the fire nervously. He summoned another Rain Dance to douse the flames, still not willing to experience the humiliation of looking like a water sprinkler by using a Surf attack instead.

As the remaining fires began to hiss angrily from the suffocating liquid, the Latios looked at the Ampharos beside him. He grinned at her facial expression, what he would be best describe as a cross between "What the hell did I just watch?" and "You stupid son of a bitch."

"Really?" she condescendingly asked, reinforcing Sirius' interpretation. "You chose to ignite the acetylene? You realize that you would've been dead if you waited a second more, right?"

"I do now." Sirius chuckled nervously, now beginning to understand the great risk of the move he had done. Her sister, now able to stand on her own, glared at him for the casual statement. "But it was worth it. It looks like we got him down," he hurriedly rectified, drawing a sigh from the Latias.

"I wish we did, I really do," she responded, gazing out at the Skarmory's body. It appeared to be a completely jumbled mess, with pieces of metal and steel sticking out at odd angles. Gone was the threatening glow from his eyes; the remaining sockets stared lifelessly at the Special Forces 'mon.

Shadrach narrowed his eyes. "Siria, what are you talking about? Look at him. He had a gas canister propel into him at nearly a hundred and fifty miles an hour and mangle his body beyond recognition. How could he not be dead?" he questioned, logically processes running haywire in his mind.

"Long story, as well as a state secret…" the Latias muttered, just aware of the fact that she divulged a supposedly top secret piece of information.

Right as Shadrach was about to ask her even further, a slight whitish radiance attracted their attention. "What's happening?" Nuwai innocently asked over the radio. "We're stuck in a debris field, so we can't give support right now. I'm the only one still with a functional radio," she added.

Sirius, Levina, and Shadrach all watched, transfixed by the transformative developments the Skarmory underwent. His legs, which were seated a couple of feet into his body, retracted into their original positions as his wings unbent themselves from a ninety-degree angle to their original configuration. A stump where his right arm had once been slowly regenerated as small bright particles assembled themselves into a resemblance of the appendage, leaving much about the law of conservation of mass to be questioned. The head, grotesquely deformed with mouth and eyes gouged and steel headfin bent sideways and melted into his scalp, regenerated and reformed themselves into the original devilish visage they had first witnessed. His red-stained eyes flickered to life and stared ominously at the spectators.

"Arceus," the Umbreon among them said, completely at a loss for words. Siria bowed her head sagaciously, already knowing the regenerative features of Shadow on a very intimate and terrifying level.

"So that's Shadow," Levina commented breathlessly, watching as the figure ascend into the air. "Amazing."

Sirius grimaced. "Amazingly bad. And we have to kill this thing?"

"Yeah, we have to. Let's go," the Ampharos replied, hardly believing the words that came out of her mouth. She was talking about killing Charlie, right? Right?

Pragmatism warred with idealism; she knew that the beast had to be killed at all costs, but a small element of her argued that even a tiny smidgen of the 'mon she knew still existed within the purple, hideous being.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the Latias behind them. Siria rubbed the spot between her eyes, trying to concentrate. "It won't be easy to do, though…. He took special attacks and physical attacks without flinching, despite the fact that they would have destroyed a normal 'mon's life ten times over. So that leaves only status," she concluded. _And possibly…. _Siria shook her head at the thought of a particularly classified weapon. "It'll take a tremendous amount of strength to kill him. That much is certain."

"Right, so status." The Latios nodded warily, charging a faint but conductive electrical pulse in his claws as he closed his eyes in concentration. Levina followed his lead, doing the same and warming up a Thunder Wave.

_1, 2…_ she suddenly heard in her mind. She jerked her head upwards at Sirius, looking for an answer to this rude and… impossible intrusion? It was no small secret that he possessed incredibly subpar psychic abilities, even up the point of not being able to telepathically communicate with anyone but his sister. What, then, could possess him to open communications such as this right now? What enabled him to?

_…3!_ she heard hardly a moment later. Suddenly aware of the bright, sparking mass in her hands, she aimed it at Charlie's back, syncing with with Sirius' similar motion. The dual electric beams merged into a large, warm, yellow charge. However, the Ampharos was more than aware that its seemingly innocent and harmless exterior would cause much nerve damage to anything that happened to be in its trajectory.

The combined Thunder Wave attack washed over the distracted Skarmory, basking him in a bright yellow light. As Levina averted her eyes slightly to avoid getting her retinas burned out, the metal bird began to flap more lightly as the electricity began to overpower whatever nervous control he had. Unlike the previous Thunderbolt, the Thunder Wave made its way into every nerve, every synapse, and every dendrite it could find, completely disabling motor function. It appeared to work, as Charlie slowly stopped flapping and spiraled into the ground once again. A plume of dust and metal arose from between the two isolated fireteams, indicating that the Skarmory had at least temporarily given up in his efforts to murder the members of Alpha Team.

Levina saw a flash of green appear behind a giant wooden crate, widening her eyes as Jul lashed out at the immobilized steel-type with an arm-blade. To her immense astonishment, the crazed Leafeon was actually successful in landing the surgically sharp blade, slicing a clean cut through the Skarmory's thin, striated neck and drawing a gush of blood from the wound. Charlie gave no noticeable resistance, simply lying there and continuing to let the grass-type cut at his body. Jul took this liberty to heart, attacking frenziedly the arms, the wings, the stomach, the chest, the face, the eyes, the mouth, and any other noticeable bodily feature.

As she saw a lifeless beak bounce at her feet, the Ampharos began to feel queasy at the amount of blood being drawn from the body, adding to her quickly piling doubts about whether Jul should have actually been admitted as an indigenous troop in the first place. That emotion was trumped by the greater fear that Skarmory still possessed newfound regenerative abilities.

"Jul? The fuck are you doing? Get back here!" she heard Din scream dimly from behind the debris. "Jul! Jul! Brother!" The Leafeon gave no heed to his Vaporeon sibling, though, and continued hacking away at the limp body. Blood was no longer gushing out in torrents but merely a steady stream, due not to the lack of orifices but rather the fact that there was little more of the oxygenated liquid to be expended. Levina saw him flash a look that was between utter glee and absolute outrage before he turned away, letting a splatter of blood paint his tan cheek as he lanced one of Charlie's elongated claws, disembodying it from the wrist down. The metal clattered loudly on the ground, curiously turning back to a dullish gray.

As the Leafeon cackled and prepared to dole out another strike, he suddenly choked up a bit as a talon sliced a slit in his leafy tail. Pained and angry, Jul stiffened it into a Leaf Blade, swinging it down at the Skarmory's body. It then occurred to him that the only 'mon able to injure him was one in his very close vicinity: namely, Charlie. Jul leaped back and crouched into a fighting stance, far more wary of the enemy's capabilities. He breathed heavily as beads of sweat trailed down the sides of his head, dripping off at the end of his angular jaw.

To his disbelief, the mutated body actually _stood_, its two profusely bleeding legs supporting the monstrous metal hull sliced and incised by Jul's attacks. Then, in front of his eyes, the same process as before occurred: the cuts sealed themselves seamlessly as the neck, where Charlie's head used to be, gave rise to a whole new head in a bizarre dim white light. Seemingly paralyzed by the spectacle, the Leafeon hesitated in his attack, instead watching with absolute anger and disbelief. As the Skarmory turned and glared at him, Jul unconsciously took a step back, hearing his boot squelch as his foot ushered blood out onto the ground.

Then Charlie attacked, shrilly crying while leaping into the air. He tucked in his arms as his vision zeroed in on the leafy figure below him, subconsciously wondering how good a plant 'mon would taste in comparison to a dragon. As the metal body came screaming down, Jul flattened himself on the ground, narrowly avoiding the Skarmory's razor-sharp maw by mere inches. He then whipped his tail at the underbelly of the beast, watching as the contact of chloroplast blade and steel surface created several arcs of lights and flashes. He pressed his paws to the floor to right himself, and searched the air for where his enemy could have gone.

Sensing a presence behind him, the Leafeon turned around and noticed Charlie's frame behind him. The bladed claws were raised, positioned to come down and shred him into slices. Jul began to stamp his foot on the ground, about to initiate a most-likely futile attempt to escape. As the Skarmory's banded arm continued to descend, the "most-likely" turned into a "definitely." He scowled in defiance, readying an arm-blade in preparation. If he was going to go down, he was going to go swinging, not cowering at the sight of his damnation.

Jul's roar died his mouth, instead subsiding to surprise as the Skarmory's figure appeared to move slowly, as if it were in molasses. A faint orangish glow surrounded the claws as Siria projected as much psychic restraint as she could on the steel-type. _MOVE, DAMMIT!_ she cried in his mind. The Leafeon wisely chose to heed the decision, slipping away to the Halcyian 'mons' location as the Latias released her force. Charlie scored the ground with four inch deep incisions as he raked the concrete with his claws. He then got knocked back and paralyzed by another set of Thunder Waves, courtesy of Sirius and Levina.

The Latias saw the grass-type round the corner behind their shipping container, still looking as stolid as the day he first arrived. This did not please Shadrach, who hardly enjoyed when subordinates flagrantly disobeyed orders. "The FUCK were you doing?" Shadrach exploded at the blood-soaked Jul. "Do you REALIZE what bullshit this is? What is your FUCKING PROBLEM? You could have gotten everybody KILLED, for Arceus' sake!"

_Enough, Shadrach_, Siria admonished. _Later, but not now._

The Umbreon growled, letting his rings glow an ominous yellow. "You will be properly reprimanded later instead of now. Be thankful for Siria."

"I figured something out, but we need to be in full synch with the other group," the aforementioned Latias announced, completely disregarding the tension in the air. "Shadrach, do you remember EON?"

"Yes, I do, but what…" he trailed off. "Are you serious?"

She nodded gravely. "If you analyze it, you'll find that he regenerates because his body still remains in a configurable form. But what if that wasn't so?"

"So we need to vaporize him. With EON," the Umbreon replied with a deadpan expression.

"Can you think of anything else?"

He launched into his explanation. "Do you even realize the political implications of using EON? No one even _knows_ that we have a… 'kinetic bombardment platform.' I'm surprised that you have clearance for it." He avoided using the more colloquial and recognized term, "orbital weapons platform."

"Well, I don't actually, but that's besides the point…."

Sirius' curiosity got the better of him as he watched the two bicker. "EON?" he inquired, wing quivering slightly.

"Energy Ordnance Network," she hurriedly said. "Anyways-"

"Hold up. What?"

The Latias angrily wheeled on her gray-furred brother, a little more than impatient. "Think ballistic launcher. KEW system, tungsten rod, all of that. Anyways-"

"Hold up. What?"

"Arceus-dammit," she muttered. "Levina, care to explain it to him while Shadrach and I get a plan worked out?"

"Right." The Ampharos rolled her eyes, scratching her striped neck. "Ok, Sirius, see, KEW stands for 'kinetic energy weapon,'" she began, eyeing Jul unkindly. She motioned for the Latios to move a bit further away from the grass-type. "I don't know what the 'EON' stuff they're talking about is, but KEW usually uses the mass of the object to destroy stuff instead of an explosive charge." Sirius nodded, absorbing the information. "Think about it like bullets, but bigger. Like, a tank gun is simply a huge rifle shooting bullets out, unless it's an high explosive one. The small explosion at the receiving end is made by the speed the projectile hits the material at."

"Mmm… that makes sense," he responded, holding a blue-tinged hand to his muzzle. "But we don't happen to have anything like that on us?"

"My question too. I'm guessing that from what they've said, it's a prototype rail gun or something."

However, her musings were cut short by an outburst from Siria. "Shadrach, look at that thing!" She jerked her finger at the purple Skarmory. "We don't have a choice!"

"Right, so we'll win, but we'll cost the state enough points in the international forum to become ostracized by others," he countered.

"You don't understand Shadow! Do you even realize the potential that Skarmory has? If we retreat and leave him alive, he'll make short work of whatever Halcyian units come through here and make all of our operations impossible! Look at how much trouble we're having. For Arceus' sake, we're an elite unit!"

"Who cares about what Shadow is! They could be Pokémon steroids, for all I know. Retreating and then attacking at a different instance is the best solution."

"What?" Siria interjected, heating up in anger. "Yes, that works. Because we'll end up using EON to nail our own location instead of right here, killing a lot more of ours than necessary! Do you even- ugh!" She lost her train of thought, the memories of her encounter with the Glaceon in the woods compounding with her top secret compact with Colonel Lynch.

"If you look at it logically, this is nothing compared to the political fallout letting everybody know that we have a space weapon will bring!" His next sentence caught in his throat as he realized the words that he had blurted. His mouth formed a small "o" as he looked at the three observers.

"Space…"

"…weapon?" Levina finished Sirius' question. "We have an orbital weapons platform?"

"Well, fuck." The Umbreon spat, glaring at them with bright red eyes. "Yeah, we have a kinetic bombardment system. Don't look too surprised. But anyways, there has to be another option! There's no need to use such force!"

Time seemed to slow as Siria stood up and slapped Shadrach clean across the face. Even the unemotional Jul seemed to start at the loud sound the action created. "Listen," she whispered as the Umbreon pawed at his slowly reddening cheek. "Hardly a month ago, I almost got raped by a Glaceon. Remember?" He nodded slowly. "You know that it takes a lot to overpower a Special Force's 'mon, especially an above-average species like me. Would you like to know how he was able to do it?" she continued.

"Shadow. That's it. He was a Shadow Pokémon, and overcame me despite my resistance. My ally had to sacrifice himself to save me. He killed the Glaceon, pulverized him to an unrecognizable form so that he couldn't come back. Shadow 'mon have incredibly dangerous potential. You said something about logic earlier. Sadly, logic no longer applies here. I think you know that after you saw Charlie recover so quickly. Someone is improving the formula; this Shadow Pokémon is even more powerful than the Glaceon I fought. We must employ all of our resources, no matter how weak or strong, to defeat him."

"Shadow, as I understand it, transcends all barriers imaginable. Yes, even our precious political norms that we 'have' to abide to. It goes beyond even the laws nature set forth for us to obey. Now, what if all of the Tamsus insurgents were to obtain this formula and use it on themselves? If you approach it from this angle, can you see why I am so quick to suggest EON?" She sighed and ran her hand through her black hair, eyes cast downwards in thought.

Shadrach softened his eyes at the Latias, not knowing what exactly what emotions she was going through but being completely able to sympathize. "I see," he said quietly, humbled by her monlogue. "And I understand, too. Though I demand a fuller explanation _when_ we get back to base." He put extra emphasis in his last sentence, disclosing a small hint of optimism.

"Right," she said, nodding her head. "Shadrach, tell Siria and Levina the plan. I'll try to raise the other team. And Jul," she warned, looking severely at him. "Don't interfere, or you _will_ pay." The grass-type glared at her, but made no movement.

As the Umbreon began to conference with the other too, she began her own communications. "Alright, Echo Four, can you read me?" she queried on her mike.

"Yeah, Echo One. We're taking lots of fire though," a young voice responded. "We need first aid. Some of us are injured."

Siria grimaced at the complication, knowing that her request would make her look even more like a selfish asshole. "We'll get that to your location," she promised. "Are you all mobile?"

"Luckily, yeah."

As she scanned the upper level of the factory for catwalks, she began to watch her plan play out in her mind. "Nuwai, get me Echo Seven, over."

The Latias heard a slight rustling sound before a deep, "Yes?" filled her ears.

"How powerful are your Aura Sphere attacks?" she asked bluntly, watching Jul out of the corner of one eye.

"Depends on what you want me to do," Ward responded.

"Look up and find the first walkway ahead of your position."

She heard a slight pause before he responded. "I see it. What about it?"

"Can you drop it in one shot? I need a slice through one of its main segments."

"Hmm…. If I charge two at once, I can, yes."

Siria inhaled slightly. "Alright. Here's the plan, and don't interrupt until I finish. Sirius is going to draw Charlie out into the open and under the catwalk. When the time is right, Levina is going to plant and detonate explosives on the side of the walkway opposite of yours. Your objective is to break it at the same time she does, effectively trapping the Skarmory under it for a moment. Then, when I say run, run. Don't think about it; just run."

"I understand. But what would this 'right time' you mention be?"

"Classified, sorry. I'll tell you when it's a go."

"Roger." The Latias thought she heard Ward mutter something about confidentiality before closing communications, but thought little of it. She then looked over at Shadrach, who gave her a nod.

"Levina, when is the paralysis going to subside?" she asked of the yellow 'mon.

She replied, "Fifteen more seconds," watching the body somberly as she gave the answer. Siria looked away and sighed, wanting to comfort the Ampharos but not being able to at the moment. She had a far more important task to carry out: actually getting EON online and running. Even though it constantly orbited the planet, it had only been used once in a secretive testing demonstration. The only earthly connection to the system was through an intranet via satellite.

The Latias closed her eyes and focused, trying to reach a single entity far back in the Drake Mountains. She had met him in passing in her first days there, and had later been able to gain some sort of friendship with him.

_Sai. SAI!_ she messaged, yelling as loud as her psychic voice allowed her to.

_Thefuckiamsowasted __- What the hell was that? _the Latias heard him process.

_Sai, this is Siria. I need you to do something for me. Think your responses and I'll pick them up._

_Who? Oh Siria, hi. Sorry about my state; I'm kinda Zapdos'd right now._ She inwardly groaned at his announcement, knowing that what she was about to ask him to do required much precision.

_Sai, listen. I need something important of you. Are you in the servers right now?_

_HDARMYD Listing: fearow.127. Sever time: 03:31. Intranet IP: __2620:0:2d0:200::10, _he responded, switching over to an automated script that supplied more than enough information than the Latias needed.

_Right. Anyways, I need a certain address accessed and some system files altered. Ready?_

She could virtually hear the Porygon click and whir before he said, _Yeah, send it my way._

_2001:db8:1f70::999:de8:7648:6e8,_ she recited, using her eidetic memory to recall the string from a particularly sensitive data document. A flurry of moment to her side distracted her for a moment; Siria saw her brother jump on top of the container and fly, blue wings on the lower part of his back fully extended. Levina stole to the left, going for the nearest ladder to the catwalk.

She was pulled back into her conversation with Sai when he queried, _I need a password._

_Username: dcommand; Password: __a3aswa9u3e2abr3br3matefe3__._

_It's asking for a second one. And that's a pretty random password, even by our standards. Not to mention that dcommand's a login that's only accessible to colonels and higher…?_

_Username: hdarmysf; Password: __be5awemaJuxevepephanaphey__._

_A third one. Really, what the hell is this? Now we're in general territory. How do you know all of this? Or do I not want to know?_

Siria frowned, knowing that she would be in for a lot of questioning and interrogation after she relayed the last password. …_username: aalem; password: …iyafibrtbmiv._

_Hold on. aalem? The _General_ A. Alem?_

_Yes._

_Yeah, no. You're basically asking me to impersonate one of our highest-ranking generals and do something that's probably volatile as hell. You do know that, right?_

_Yes._

_You're crazy. There's no way in hell I'm doing this._

_Listen,_ the Latias started, snarling in real life. _Do you want the truth? Fine. My squad and I are two minutes from being blown away by Tamsus insurgents, and there is no way that we can function without this system online. If you do not comply, I will die, come back as a ghost, take temporary control of Axe's brain, trap you inside a computer, take you outside, put fifty caliber rounds through the computer, and then leave his body as you emerge screaming. Then I will eviscerate you, Dragon Claw you in areas you thought impossible, summon every bad dream you had in your mind since birth, fry every nerve in your body with psychic power, beat you to within an inch of your life, and then use Wish and recover all of your wounds. I will repeat the actions over and over because a dead 'mon has nothing better to do, and stop only when I feel like it. Is that a deal?_ Siria felt a guilty pleasure run through her as she saw Sai visualizing each step, knowing that few, if any, 'mon could resist her rather empty threat.

_Uhh… 'mon that's a tough decision. Do I either spoof my IP and access the protocol or die a hellish death…? I think I'll choose the first, thank you very much._

_Good choice. Enter the login information; time is scarce._

_Alright, it's going through… whoa, what? Siria, what is this location? I've never seen anything like it before. EON system 53901? There's some sort of dot revolving around a ball…?_

Siria tensely replied, _Oh, that. It's a new satellite service the military's testing. Anyways, can you compare that satellite's position to __[-82.21441, -114.78516]? There's a calculator somewhere on there._

_Hmm… says one minute, five seconds, and counting. _The Latias blinked at the small number, figuring that Sirius needed to hold off the rampant Skarmory for that amount of time.

_Alright. There's another thing I want you to do. At the lower right, do you see a series of boxes marked one to twenty-four? The first one should have an 'X' by it._

…_yeah, I see it._

_Alright. When that timer reaches zero, mark boxes two to five as 'X' and click 'deploy,' _she further instructed.

Sai seemed to comply with her command. _Ok, I can do that. But what is this for, anyways? What's being deployed?_

_Uhh… booster rockets. To realign the satellite in orbit,_ Siria hastily lied.

_Sure. And I'm not doing something completely illicit for you. But whatever. You owe me big time for this later, you know_, he added.

_Thanks. I'll get you a drink at the bar tomorrow. How about that?_

_Fuck you._

Siria smirked slightly at the Porygon's response before remembering where she was. The seconds remaining before Sai made the changes seemed to pass by like molasses as she watched Sirius dance on the ground under the catwalk she targeted. _Siria, how much longer?_ the stressed Latios asked, sweat matting the grayish down on his face.

_Just a few more seconds… few more seconds…_ The red dragon mentally counted the time; the metal needed at least seven seconds to fall and entrap the Skarmory underneath it. As the time continued to wind downwards, she heard a cry of pain come from her brother. She saw him stumble and fall as the crazed steel-type towered over him, using a forked tongue to lick his beak.

In a sudden, unbidden act, she jumped upwards and sped into the scene. _Ward, NOW!_ she communicated as she set her vision on the grounded Latios. Out of the corner of her eyes, she saw two bright blue spheres flew upwards at the catwalk, daring to disjoint the metal pathway with a one-two strike. Siria put more speed into her flight, knowing that she had only moments to grab her brother out of there before Charlie would have an early breakfast.

She grabbed the Latios at the hips, feeling the rough fabric of the fatigues she grasped at. The Latias simultaneously heard a shredding, melting sound, and concluded that the first of the two Aura Spheres struck the catwalk. _Levina, NOW!_ she additionally relayed as she lifted off more slowly than usual, hampered by her brother's weight adding to her own.

An explosive blast joined the harsh ripping of metal as both Levina's explosives and Ward's second Aura Sphere tore through the opposite sides of the catwalk. As Siria made her narrow escape, the giant strip of metal came crashing down on the Skarmory and trapped him. The steel-type screamed and struggled to get the metal off of him; however, deprived of air power, he would take a little more time in his efforts.

_…2, 1,_ _0_! the Latias thought. _Sai, confirm the data._

_ Gotcha_, she heard him think.

"Everybody!" Siria yelled on both her mike and in her squads' minds. "Get out! Doesn't matter where. Just get OUT!" The dragon hugged her brother tightly to her body and rocketed out one of the broken windows of the facility, watching as several figures on the ground began to filter out of the factory.

* * *

High above the planet's surface, a large satellite twinkled as its metal caught some unfiltered rays of sunlight. Its construction consisted of a main, hexagonal body with a series of exactly twenty-four holes at one flat end and an antennae construction at the tip of the other more focused one. The solar panels were simply attached to the sides of the vessel, as if they were an afterthought rather than an integral part of the design. However, they were the most important aspect of the satellite, supplying power to the communications systems that connected it with the Halycian Defense's network.

The complex machine sighed slightly as several simultaneous bursts of compressed gas shoved four tungsten rods out of their respective holes. The fifteen-foot long lengths slowly (as slowly as objects orbiting at five miles a second could) succumbed to the gravitational pull of the planet, and began to fall from orbit into the atmosphere.

The rods began to fall faster and faster, quickly breaking the sound barrier and entering the highest levels of the navy-hued atmosphere. Several guidance fins popped out from each module, making sure that the weapons would remain as on-target as possible. The coned noses of the rods began to glow red-hot, skipping the normal chemical change from solid to gas and converting right to plasma as the sheer friction heat they encountered rose to a mild three thousand degrees Fahrenheit.

The tungsten rods now screamed downwards, reaching and easily breaking Mach Nine. At their velocity, they easily crossed the distance between them and their target in mere seconds. The clouds wore new holes as the rods that pierced them honed in on the rough steel roof of the factory.

* * *

On a hill overlooking the factory, nine Special Forces 'mon watched as four fiery arrows descended from the heavens, illuminating the night sky with a bright white. Levina observed their flight and watched them slice effortlessly through the top of the factory. Then, four giant explosions rocked the entire city as the tungsten transferred their kinetic energy straight into what she presumed to be Charlie's body, impacting him with the force of a meteorite strike four times over. Unable to withstand the sheer brunt of the collisions, the walls of the factory crumbled and caved in. The entire facility collapsed in a giant roar, releasing a giant plume of dust into the air.

Sirius let out a low whistle as the resultant wind whipped through his spiky hair. "So, that's EON, huh? More like rods from God, if you ask me. I would _not_ want to be in the way if Arceus was that pissed." Levina only frowned at his comment, wondering if even an atom of what used to be Charlie remained. As she stared at the roaring fire, her doubts began to pile considerably.

"An amazing show of power," Talal commended. "I hope that Tamsus truly understands what it's now dealing with."

An Umbreon groaned in response, putting a paw to his face. "This is going to be on _so_ many news channels… the last thing we need others to think is that we're a war-crazy nation with a few WMD-ish space weapons."

"But it was necessary." Siria sat down with a leg propped up. "Could you imagine what would have happened if we let Charlie run amuck in here and take Tamsus' agenda up to the Drakes? The casualties would have been enormous."

"What happened to that Skarmory, anyways?" Din asked. "I don't think I've ever seen a Pokémon that powerful before."

"I'll explain later, if I'm allowed to," she responded airily, remembering the forms she signed. The Latias had already broken the contract earlier, but she knew that her squadmates would most likely never reveal the details of what she had said. "But we still need to recover Charlie's body, and the extraction helicopter comes in a few minutes."

"We'll do a quick fly-over. You guys stay put," Sirius complemented.

"Hold on." Levina stood up. "Could either of you take me there…?" She looked down, not knowing what else to say. Her mind was a vortex of thoughts, containing a little bit of _What happened to Charlie?_ mixed in with a healthy dose of _Is there a chance he survived?_ and a sprinkle of _What if he's still alive, and pissed?_

As the Latias jumped into the air, Sirius held a hand out to her, silently asking her to partake in his flight abilities. Nodding slightly, she took the invitation, and inhaled sharply as the Latios gently but firmly pulled her so that her back laid parallel against him. He then wrapped his arms around the area just under her chest and leaped upwards, sparing no time in transferring her to ground zero.

Levina had to suck in her gut to avoid the feeling of her heart plummeting straight into her stomach. She looked downwards at her body, noticing for the first time that the Latios' arms were strange formations: on an arm where his fatigues had been ripped off, she noted that the upper part was a pale gray, just like the majority of his face, while the blue forearm was a bit widened, small point arising where it lapsed over the forearm. A five-digit hand arose from the end of the unusual forearm, seemingly innocent but able to turn into claws whenever the dragon deemed it necessary.

The Ampharos shook her head at her observations, feeling the wind whip her feathered hair against her face. For Arceus' sake, it was only an arm!

She watched as the buildings passed under her, and exhaled sharply as the Latios gripped her even more tightly to him. Under normal circumstances, she would have reared in anger and given him a punch or five, but she found, much to her dismay, that she didn't have either the energy or the _will_ to follow through on the action. Sirius noticed none of her confusion, though, and continued to concentrate on getting to the factory in one piece.

By then they had arrived at the impact site. Sirius hovered to the ground and let go of the electric-type, fully expecting her to begin whaling on him for doing something that he was completely unaware of. However, he was surprised by an uncharastically meek, "Thank you," from the Ampharos, and cocked his head in confusion as she went and cautiously approached the large, smoldering crater where the middle of the building used to exist. Siria was already there, a little deeper into the giant recess than either of them. The Latias used a mild Surf attack, spraying a jet of water from her mouth to douse the remaining fires and remove some of the smoke obscuring their vision.

A mold of silver metal coating an inlay of concrete was all that remained. All three approached it slowly, each aware of the fact that it could suddenly reform into a Shadow 'mon and kill them all. However, as they continued to eye the former Skarmory, nothing of the sort occurred. The metallic silver simply sat there, inanimate and most definitely dead.

"So." Sirius looked around. "What do we do?"

"I guess…." His sister's voice faltered for a moment. "I guess we'll have to take this back with us." She stooped down to the concrete and breathed a Dragon Pulse on one of the metal's edges, beginning to separate the piece from the rocky surface.

Levina frowned at Charlie's remains, brown eyes glinting as embers passed before her. _So. He's dead. In a single night, we torched him, eviscerated him, and drove kinetic energy rods into him from three hundred miles above. So why aren't I kneeling on the ground and weeping? Why don't I feel anything apart from tremendous remorse and some amount of sadness? True, we're conditioned to expect each other's death on a daily basis, but still…._

She heard something stand beside her, and turned to look. Sirius stared solemnly at his sister's work as she lifted the foot-long concrete slab out the ground. "Levina, I…" he began, quite unsure of what to say. As he understood it, her tough exterior only hid the tremendous grief she was experiencing. The Ampharos held up a hand in a gesture to silence him, though.

"No, it's fine, Sirius. Words aren't necessary." She turned her head away from the Latios, not wanting him to see the tiny beads beginning to form at the corners of her eyes.

"Sirius," the electric-type heard Siria ask. "What about Mike's remains? Do you think they're still here?"

He looked around the rubble. The only things that remained standing were sticks of half-melted concrete rebar and hollowed-out support pillars, testaments to the sheer power the rods from God, as the Latios affably termed them, possessed. "Probably not," he said. "But you know more about EON's capabilities than I do, so I can't really say."

The Latias was about to form a response when she suddenly snapped her head and crouched. "There are reinforcements coming," she warned softly, eyes watching a small surface street snaking by the impacted structure. "We need to get going." Without ado, she grasped the concrete piece and jumped upwards, turning invisible as she darted away.

"Well," Sirius sighed, looking to the Ampharos. "Let's go." She nodded limply in response as he move behind her and hugged her tightly, extending his azure wings for flight. As they quickly ascended from the factory, Levina thought that she saw a small flash of light from below. Looking away from the hellish hulk, she instead closed her eyes, not wanting to think or care about anything. Her mental faculties had been far exceeded that night, and the faint sound of helicopter rotors was the only thing that assuaged her pained mind.

* * *

A black body hiding behind a crumbled support column arose, watching the blue-and-yellow figures retreat from the destroyed building. The Typhlosion wore a tattered white lab coat bearing the stitched lettering "den" where the heat of the tungsten rods didn't eat at through his Protect barrier. He was writing fanatically on a legal pad, tossing the now-inkless ballpoint pen out on the ground and snatching a new one from his breast pocket. Several similar pens littered the rubble below him, signaling just how many notes he had written during his observation.

Grinning, he clicked the pen and slid it back into his pocket, finally done with recording his analyses. The sixty or so pages on the yellow lined paper were all filled with doctor-like cursive, surprisingly neat considering how fast he had written. "Heh. That was an interesting derivative I never expected. Who knew that Halcyia actually had a functioning spacial KEW? But Shadow still didn't perform to our expectations. Charlie didn't undergo a complete transformation, and the power levels are still dearly lacking," he commented with a frown, looking down at his tan underbelly. The rods from the EON system had nearly broke the immensely powerful Protect the fire-type had used, burning through not only his coat but also his undershirt. Fortunately, the weapon had the courtesy of leaving his pants mostly intact; the olive-green mesh only bore scorch marks on the lower half.

Aiden then grinned widely. "But at least I confirmed something. Siria, Siria, Siria. Don't you know that Pokémon can disguise and obfuscate their mental signatures after a bit of practice and discipline? Hopefully you'll figure that out soon."

"Or maybe you won't. It'll work out best for our plans if that is the case."


	20. An Offer You Can't Refuse

Dang, where do I start...

Anyways, so sorry for not updating in the past two weeks! School and college apps (why Stanford, why) has thrown my schedule through the crapper, and I just finished the quarter's assignments on Friday, so I finally got time to write this up in the two days I had before diving straight back into the pit of hell. Hopefully the next update won't be as belated as this, but life may just end up rudely shoving those words down my mouth... again.

* * *

Chapter 20: An Offer You Can't Refuse

Levina sat at a single, lonely table in the dining quarters. Looking out of the window at the snow drifts outside, she plopped a pair of sugar cubes into her coffee mug, stirring the drink to cool it. The Ampharos turned away from the sight of the barracks, finding more comfort in the dark brown liquid than the frostiness of the dawn-hued mountains outside. Peering into the cup, she evaluated her frowning yellow reflection, taking in the red streaks running across the whites of her eyes. Levina then sighed and took a sip of the hot brew, recollecting what had transpired in the debriefing after their extraction….

_"We did post-mission analysis on the factory your squad attacked. After we looked your information over, the first question we had for you four is: what the _fuck_ happened down there?" A quizzical Rhydon flanked by another officer looked up from his papers at the four Alpha Squad members. The RM 'mon, with the exception of Jul, had already been dismissed to their quarters; there was no need for them to partake in the discussion. "We sent you for a routine extraction of two downed air'mon, and what we got out of it was a factory wrecked to its foundations by an inexplicable force and a chunk of silver coated concrete."_

_ All of the squadmates trained their eyes on Siria. The dragon, first glancing briefly around her, returned, "The details of what we saw are classified, ranking as Top Secret in confidentiality. The only information I may disclose is that both individuals we were tasked to extract are missing in action." _

_Levina unconsciously nodded with her assertion; it was no small secret that failing to furnish evidence that a soldier was dead made it impossible to determine if he or she was _actually_ dead, despite the veracity of the testimonies of fellow 'mon. In past cases before the advent of DNA technologies, even a severed hand was considered insufficient proof. Some 'mon advised their squadmates to decapitate their corpses to show solid evidence, and for some reason (Levina suspected it to be out of tradition), current SF 'mon requested the same of their fellow soldiers if their entire body couldn't be extracted, despite the use of DNA analysis to determine the owner of a body part._

"_Top Secret?" the rock-type asked, stony face creasing at the loaded phrase. "Under what authority is what you saw considered 'Top Secret?'"_

"_Under the command of Colonel Stanford Lynch, sir." The officer's slight inhalation was not lost on Levina. She knew the amazing influence even mentioning the Salamence's name had within the ranks, and personally understood why after witnessing him chew Siria out in the cafeteria back in FOB Archer. _

_The watching Empoleon now spoke, eyes flashing from behind the trident mask. "How can we be certain that Colonel Lynch authorized what you witnessed as classified?" The unspoken implication, "Because you may just be trying to cover your ass," hung heavily in the air._

"_You can ask him yourself," Siria sternly suggested, matching the water-type eye to eye._

"_The protocol is Top Secret, is it not? We cannot ask him. You may be trying to use his name to lie."_

_Siria flared up, amber eyes glowing slightly in indignation. "I can relent for a moment before we officially announce the protocol. I'll just relate to him that two officers aren't willing to believe the testimony of a Special Forces member and wait in the lovely half hour he'll spend screaming at you."_

"_Ah… well…." Even the thought of conversing with the supposedly fire-breathing dragon put the officers on edge, not to mention that it was the first time either of them had ever debriefed a soldier claiming that her observations were of the highest level of national security. "In this case we will allow you to make communications. Be aware that there _will_ be a formal investigation into this matter, though."_

"_Good. Is there an encrypted channel I can access?"_

_The Rhydon answered, "Yes. We'll hook you up in communications."_

_Siria got up and began to walk to the exit of the room. As she passed the three squadmates, she added, "And may my three squadmembers be free to go? If they know what is good for them, they will mention nothing of what happened last night." The Latias gave each one of them a firm expression, holding a frosty glare on Sirius more than anyone else. Her brother squirmed slightly in the chair under the look, completely unwilling to defy her command._

_The officers' gaze turned towards the three other individuals in the room. After some slight deliberation, they exchanged glances and nodded. "If you deem it so, then you may. However, we claim a lack of all responsibility for their actions. Anything punishable under violating this alleged 'Top Secret' protocol will fall on your shoulders."_

"_I understand." And the three left Levina, Shadrach, and Sirius sitting in their chairs quite rudely, the Ampharos thought._

_The Latios was the first to speak. "Do you think she'll be able to patch stuff up? I don't want to be on the receiving end of an indictment."_

"_If she's using Lynch's name, then chances are that we might be able to," Shadrach theorized. "Of course, we don't even know which part of the mission she considered classified, so calculating probabilities isn't going to get us anywhere." _

"_Ah." The three of them sat at the table for a moment, forgetting where they were at. "So, then…," the dragon started. "Anyone else up for getting breakfast and hitting the bunks? I'm pretty tired myself."_

_Levina stood up, eyes slightly drooping as she realized just how much she had been put through in the mission. "I'm not too hungry right now. I'll see you later." From the corner of her eye, she saw them looking concernedly at her as she stood up and left the room._

_ And two days later, here I am now_. Levina sighed and took another sip of coffee, wondering if it had really been that short of a time since they returned from the mission. Her musings were slightly disrupted by a Latias smartly dressed in full battle fatigues. The Ampharos was tempted to roll her eyes at the sight; initially, when they first lived together, she suspected that Siria either didn't know what casual dress was or that she was one of those strange 'mon who actually enjoyed the uniform. Three nights in, it was more than apparent to her that it was the latter.

However, as Levina watched her set a plate of toast and a mug of tea down, she found that she didn't quite want to express her sarcasm so openly. _And what's with my not wanting to do anything lately, for that matter? I mean, I know that I saw Charlie get killed, and that I spent a few hours grieving in private, but-_

"Levina?" the Latias asked concernedly. The 'mon in question looked at her white-and-red face, realizing that they hadn't even conversed once since the end of the mission. Whenever the Ampharos had seen her, Siria was either on her way to somewhere for official business or sleeping.

"Yes?" she responded. _Perhaps a little more sharply than usual_, the electric-type noted as she saw the dragon blink slightly.

Siria fought down her momentary surprise though, quickly regaining her composure in an instant. "Do you want some?" She nudged the plate of bread towards Levina.

"No, thanks."

"Drinking coffee on an empty stomach will come back to hurt you later, you know."

Levina smiled slightly at her partner's motherly advice. "I'll manage," she said, thinking about how deeply the Latias believed she was impacted.

The two 'mon exchanged nothing but silence as they watched the morning sun creep slowly over the mountains. Siria sat quietly, taking small bites of toast and drinking her tea. The electric-type could tell the dragon was nearly mesmerized by the sight as both of them solemnly took in the beauty of the sunlight playing off the brilliant snowy-white peaks; she swore that if the Latias had her sketchbook on her, she would take it out at that instant. The sounds of shuffling papers and opening zippers only served to confirm Levina's suspicions. Looking over at Siria, she saw that had flipped to a blank page in a pocket-sized sketchbook. The jet-black mechanical pencil in her hand was poised above the fine finish of the paper, ready to lay down the first of a multitude of strokes.

A random thought then popped into the Ampharos' head. "Hey, Siria, can I ask you a question?" she asked.

The Latias looked away from the mountains. "Yes?"

"When are you next scheduled for leave?"

"Hmm…." She set down her pencil, searching through her memory for an answer. "In a couple of weeks, I believe," the Latias replied after a moment of thought. "Going back to home for a while… why do you want to know?"

"Just wondering," Levina said.

She continued, "I wish Shadrach could come with me, but we're on different schedules, so that's a slight problem." The Latias sighed slightly, discontent with their circumstances.

"Oh."

Now Siria glanced up at the Ampharos' visage. "Sorry, I didn't mean to say that," she said. "I know that you're still…."

Levina shook her head. "No, I'm fine," she responded, trying her best to suppress her natural emotional responses to Siria's implication. As an empathetic being, the Latias could pick up on the emotions she projected despite the stolid look she held.

The response evoked an accusatory reaction from the red dragon, who was slightly offended by the lie the Ampharos gave. "Levina, I probably know you better than anyone else here, and this isn't normal of you."

She looked up from her cup, surprised at the bluntness with which Siria approached the topic. The Ampharos then dropped her façade, letting her expression slip into a more somber one. "Yeah, I know," Levina admitted, stirring her coffee with her straw. "It's just that…." She cast a glance towards Siria, who had all but abandoned the task of drawing, instead devoting time to listening to her friend. The small sketchpad laid beneath the Latias' red folded hands as she expectantly watched the Ampharos.

"Well, I don't know what I'm experiencing right now. I know that we're both used to seeing 'mon dying and such, but why is it that I'm so… confused about Charlie's death? I've mostly kept it a secret that I liked him, and had to fight that feeling during the battle, but now… I don't know what quite to feel."

The Latias hummed, looking back out at the warm mountains. "Maybe… I don't quite know." She laughed softly. "Your problem is a lot different from mine; I can't help but feel a lot younger now, even though we're the same age. I'll tell you what I had thought a month ago. Oh, and if you do happen to leak this out to anyone else, I _will_ think of a way to get back at you." Levina couldn't help but smile at Siria's somewhat playful nature as she gave the Ampharos a wink.

"I guess that my frustration resulted from a mixture of anger and sadness; I was angry at the fact that I could have saved my partner's life, and sad that he had thought so much of me as to give his own life for me, though that may have been to avenge his own wife…. Then, it became some sort of an inferiority complex. I thought that I sucked, especially when compared to everybody else. After that, well… there isn't much more because of Shadrach." She blushed slightly at the last sentence. "Though I don't believe what I went through applies to you. I didn't have a thing for Wyatt; actually, I only knew him for only a night."

Levina didn't comment on her statement, a little surprised that Siria so easily divulged the information she had been hunting after for the entire time since that night. Although she agreed with the Latias' sentiments, she had no intent of even indirectly condemning her thoughts.

"So that brings us back to you," she continued. "Hmm, I think there's an easier way to approach this… what exactly did you like about Charlie? Sorry if I'm poking at any bad spots; you don't really have to respond."

The Ampharos sighed, wondering how exactly to formulate her response. For all she knew, their discussion could have transpired in a high school hallway. "Well, see, I first saw him in my first deployment, and I thought that he was pretty cute. Hey, I was hardly eighteen, alright?" she protested when Siria put her hands to her mouth to stifle a guffaw.

"Anyways, he was our squad leader, a bit older than the rest of us. Think mid-thirties or somewhere around there. Charlie seemed to be pretty quiet, but he was the most skilled out of all of us. I felt slightly attracted because of the way he carried himself, and talked with him a little bit. Not too much, though; the time didn't allow for it. He was too busy giving orders and stuff, since he was instructing us, not to mention treating us really well…. He was almost like a father to us, always pushing us to go further but knowing that even we had limits."

"When I think about it, though, time was one of the main things with me. As much as I liked him, there wasn't really much time for relationships when we had training and missions almost every day. Sure, there was the off-time after training, but Charlie would always slip away somewhere. I was never quite sure where," Levina continued, now seeing that the Latias was paying rapt attention to her.

"Anyways, one day I decided to tail him one day to see where he would always go after training. So he makes this long walk, as if he doesn't want anybody to see him. He somehow doesn't notice me, though, and he finally ended behind one of the barracks way across the base. There was a Pidgeot girl there, and…." The Ampharos didn't feel it necessary to complete the sentence. "Yeah."

Siria nodded in sympathy. "Ah."

"So right there, I knew there was no chance, both because he had a girlfriend and he was an officer, and that it would've sucked if higher-ups found out that an enlisted 'mon and an officer were dating... but it still didn't hurt to admire him from a distance, did it?" Levina asked fallaciously. She definitely knew the answer to the second question; otherwise, she wouldn't be talking with Siria right now.

"So, uh, I'm sorry for what's probably a blunt question," the Latias began. The other nodded for her to continue. "But… what I get out of this is that you liked his looks, got to know him just a bit, and decided on it?"

"If you put it that way, then… I guess, yeah."

"Did you think about whether what you saw was all of him? I know he's nice around all of us, but what about in private?" Siria took a slightly reclining position, beginning to feel more like a counselor than a confidant.

"I didn't, now that you mention it…."

"Right. And couldn't you have been seeing only his good traits and ignoring those that you wouldn't like so much? Sounds like a way to make the perfect guy, if you ask me." Levina looked at her with interest, silently telling her to go on.

"I'd imagine that you didn't know too much about him, like I did with Wyatt. Right before he died, I knew everything about him, especially things that I wish I could erase from my mind. They nearly drove me insane; more like into an emotional wreck, if you ask me. On the other hand, how much do you know about Charlie's personal life? His interests? Style of living? Ideals?"

Levina blinked. "You're supposed to answer that," the Latias pressed.

"Well… now that I actually think about it, very little."

"Hmm…." Siria smiled gently. "That may be it. Sounds like you made him the perfect 'mon in your mind, if you ask me. You just looked around a bit and filled in the blanks for yourself. Who knows how many things he would have disagreed on you with?"

The Ampharos frowned at her logic. From an entirely logical standpoint, Siria seemed to be right on the issue, but that didn't mean it was….

"He was probably a role model to you, if anything else. He's definitely someone I looked up to, though in less of a romantic sense than a tactical one… Levina, you look pale. Are you sure you're fine? Tell me if I'm digging too deep."

She shook her head, feeling a slight burning sensation working its way up her cheeks at the Latias' observation. "No, I'm alright," the electric-type replied distantly, somberly looking back down into her cup.

"Right," Siria rejoined. "Anyways, to be honest, I don't really know what to say, but… it takes time. I know it did with my mother, but – and I don't mean to sound cold – you'll eventually get over it and move on. I think about it as: would you let the 'mon who died see you moping and crying over their death? If you put that way, it kind of gets a little clearer. To me, at least; I'm just saying what I think, after all."

Levina forced a smile at her optimism, causing the dragon to pursue, "Well, just tell me if you need anything. I'm done with all of my work, so I'll be there whenev-"

"Hey!" a voice rang out. Siria groaned and looked away at the sight of her brother, who emerged from the breakfast line with Shadrach. The Latios took a seat next to Levina, setting down a bowl with an inordinate number of berries.

As he speared one on a claw and began to chew on it, the Umbreon sat down much more politely next to Siria, handing her a rolled-up newspaper in the process. She took the thin, grayish paper and unfolded it, looking down the front page. Her attention was immediately attracted to a set of lines marked by a dullish yellow highlight.

xx

…In addition to the general clamor of the international forum, the government of Mirunas specifically called for Halcyia to confirm the presence of the alleged space weapon.

"Halcyia has, time and time again, been responsible for developing offensive weapons of which there are no defensive purposes," a Mirunas spokes'mon stated in a national address on Monday. "This orbital weapons platform is a product of one of these projects, and they sought to keep it a secret. Why? They do not want to tell the world that they have such a weapon because they must have all of their power when they decide to dominate all of their neighbors."

In addition to criticizing Halcyia's offensive weapons development programs, Mirunas' government has also put all of their military units at high alert, citing "excessive Halcyian belligerence" for the order. "We do not wish to wage war, but should Halcyia oversteps its boundaries, we will take up arms and defend the land that is ours," Mirunas Defense Minister Irwin Hackey stated.

The Halcyian Defense was not available for comment at this time.

xx

"Um." Siria looked oddly at the text, reading it over once more. "Sounds like Mirunas is awfully…."

"Nationalistic? Yes, definitely," Shadrach said, gingerly picking a berry out of Sirius' bowl and narrowly avoiding getting his paw pierced by a claw. "This isn't the best of situations for us, either way. One, we lose the strategic value of our satellites because Mirunas, if not all other nations, will undoubtedly put more funding into researching anti-satellite technology now that they know of EON, and two, we'll receive increasingly less and less support in our war against Tamsus. No one wants to support a warmonger, after all."

"But we're not warmongers."

"Explain EON."

"It's a rapid response weapon to be used when we can't get aircraft or ballistic missiles there fast enough, or when we need the power of a tactical nuclear weapon without the side effects."

"Does it defend us?"

"…no."

"Explain how we're not warmongers."

Siria scowled and turned away from him, instead lookout outside once again. Something in the background of the mountains caught her attention, though. A large helicopter slowly grew more and more visible as it neared the base, kicking up snow as it landed neatly on one of the helipads outside.

One of the doors opened, yielding two rifle-bearing soldiers. They shouldered their weapons and scanned the perimeter, actively looking to see if any threats were present even in the highly-secure base. After looking around for a while, one of them seemed to turn and yell into the chopper. Then, along with several other important-looking 'mon, an aged Persian and an equally elder Salamence stepped out. The Walrein the Special Forces 'mon had seen from earlier walked out to greet the officials.

Siria had to blink to convince herself that her vision was correct. "Hey, Shadrach, is that… Alem? And, wait, what? Lynch?"

The Umbreon squinted at the heavily dressed Persian, who was addressing the Walrein. "Yes, that's Alem, but why would he come out here?"

"Field inspection, maybe?" Sirius had distracted himself enough from his breakfast to look at what everybody else was gawking at. "That's what the general did to us back in the Air Wing all the time."

"But one of the Chief of Staffs of special operations in a high-risk area?" Siria countered. "He never came to see us when we were at Archer, and that's one of the safest bases there are! And why Lynch? It's not as if the two actually get along, unless-"

The Latias turned pale as she replayed the mission from a few nights ago, suddenly wondering where Sai had gone. Why were they here? Lynch had reassured her that he'd take care of things. But maybe that wasn't so, and Alem was here… to see her… about _that_….

Her fears were only confirmed when the Walrein motioned towards the female barracks, leaving Siria with the only assumption that they were looking for her. Looking away from the scene, she widened her eyes as a Swellow holding an envelope made his way down to their table. She furtively glanced around, first at the windows, then to the entrance, then to the restrooms.

After some analysis, the Latias concluded that the only way she could escape was to go through the windows, and she wasn't too keen on getting scratched and bloodied up. Absolutely nervous on the inside, she put up as brave of a face she could muster and watched the flying-type walk up to them, gritting her teeth as he opened his beak to speak.

"Hey, Sirius? Mail came; they brought your shit."

The Latios looked up from a now-empty bowl, not wiping the berry juice off his hands before taking the package. "Thanks, man. Been waiting for this for-_ever_."

Siria sighed a breath of relief as the Swellow left. _Alright. So that was it. Just to bring mail to my brother. Nothing's wrong at all. They aren't searching for-_

She nearly jumped out of her hide as something tapped on her shoulder. "Staff Sergeant Siria?" a voice asked. The dragon turned to look into the tinted eyes of a Flygon.

Acting upon her silence, he spoke, "I'm to escort you to briefing. I'm also to escort Sergeant Shadrach, Sergeant Levina, and Sergeant Sirius. Do you know of their whereabouts?"

As Sirius looked away and coughed loudly, Siria said, "These three are those you ask for, but why?"

"Several high-ranking officers have asked for their presence, as well as yours. Now, please follow me."

Siria glanced back at Shadrach, whose face was contorted between _what's going to happen?_ and _I told you so._ Sighing, the Latias rose and gestured towards her squadmates to follow suit.

* * *

"Please, sit." The Persian before the four of them motioned towards a set of chairs before the table. All four of the 'mon took the seats, giving each other glances as they did so. Alem and Lynch sat on the other side, silently evaluating the four of them.

General Alem thumbed through a sheaf of papers, humming while he did so. "A few days ago, Alpha Team was assigned an extraction mission. We desired to bring back a Skarmory observation unit that had been shot down over Riyaq, on the account of Tamsus torturing them to extract vital intelligence. However, according to our results, and the counsel of Colonel Lynch, the operation seemed to go awry, and resulted in a few minor problems." He gestured at the newspaper Shadrach held in his paw.

"Now," he continued as Siria opened her maw to object. "I am not accusing you of anything, but now would be a wise time to tell all the truth. But don't tell it slant; that would not do us any good." The Persian chuckled at the play on the poem's title.

Siria looked down, thinking hard about the topic. She had discussed the Shadow Skarmory at length with Lynch, but how informed was Alem of the actual issue? And how badly would she get punished if she disclosed that she had "hacked" the military satellite to drop the rods on their position? She had hinted at it in her discussion, but did he know? Did Alem know?

Sighing, the Latias looked up into the general's maroon eyes and began to talk. She told them everything – how they found Mike's remains, how they fought against Charlie, not to mention how and _why_ she had gained control of EON. However, unlike Lynch, Alem chose to simply fold his arms and nod every once in a while, giving off the air of not caring but actually processing the story step by step.

"So that's it. The enemy is one that we cannot combat with conventional arms, and knowing this, you chose to resort to a rather unconventional weapon not written in the rulebooks. The hallmark of a good soldier, I must say." the Persian lauded, looking at Siria. "I would have preferred it to be something that wouldn't garner such attention, but I realize that it must have been the only choice. That Skarmory seems to be a frightful fellow, and I apologize for being so offensive in regards to Charlie's death. He will be given the honors and the funeral that all 'mon are given despite his actions; they were obviously unforced, from what you tell me."

"Yes," Siria confirmed, glancing towards Levina. Her head was bowed downwards, and the Latias could feel a tinge of regret emanating from the electric-type.

The blue dragon in the room then spoke. "But there is a far more uncertain concern surrounding this issue: Shadow. As much as we strove to keep its existence a secret," Lynch growled, giving all four of them a cursory glare, "It appears that it cannot be so anymore, at least in the sense of only our elites knowing. Excluding Siria, you three are now undoubtedly aware of what Shadow does, which means that you are all under rather complex circumstances. If I had it my way, you four would be either imprisoned or withheld from participating in other units' activities." He said the threat with a slight smile, sending chills down everybody's but Siria's spines.

"Lynch, now is not the time for gallows humor," Alem cleanly stated. He turned back towards the four of them. "Now, this morning we are here to make you an offer, which is made considerably easier considering the fact that two of are ranked among the top Special Forces members in the entire Halcyian Army, and that we would have eventually searched you out." All looks were directed at Siria and Shadrach.

"We wish for you for to be inducted as members of the Halcyian Tactical Response," Lynch bluntly complemented. In response to the Persian's protests, he justified, "General, let's not get caught up in the politics of everything. It's either dance around and waste their time or give it to them straight. Now, normally we can do the former when we're all sitting in comfy chairs, but the clock is ticking."

Alem sighed heavily, acknowledging the Salamence's justification. "Right. We know that we've been shifting you around a lot lately, and I am sorry for that. However, forgive us for our motives in this shift. Colonel Lynch, if you would kindly explain."

"You four have experienced an encounter with a Shadow Pokémon, and lived. That's a testament that few, if any, can proudly claim within our entire military." Siria's eyes narrowed at this remark, wondering if one of the HTR's extremely classified goals had to do with Shadow. "And to have survived this attack, you must have adopted, as General Alem said, rather unconventional and intelligent tactics. You have the experience that we need in our endeavors against this new force."

"No." All eyes turned towards Shadrach, who crossed his arms and shook his head. "You really think that I'm going to let you use me as another tool in your political agenda? Forget it."

The Umbreon didn't notice the bulging vein on the Salamence's head, though, and was completely caught off guard by his rebuttal. "Put yourself in my boots for a second!" Lynch barked, demonstrating none of the kindliness Siria was familiar with and leaving her wondering if this was how he acted outside of one-on-one discussions or if he was a genuine asshole. "You're making our job containing this threat harder than it already is! You haven't an Arceus-damn clue as to what this shit is, even when you've been pressed up the wall by it, and you're going to stand by here pissing and moaning and telling me to let Shadow destroy the rest of our forces? Shut the fuck up."

"Colonel Lynch!" the Persian besides him intoned. "Remember your honor, and remember your manners!"

"Sorry," he spat in return. "I just don't like it when 'mon think they know how everything works up the chain of command. Believe it or not, Sergeant, what you heard is just one of the reasons. Another one you might want to consider is that we need replacements. Badly. If we hadn't asked you now, we would have definitely asked later."

"So by replacements, you mean more to get killed in action, right?"

"Then why are you in Special Forces? There's the door; get out if you can't take the heat."

"I was forced into this position!" the Umbreon retorted with no small measure of anger.

"Forced? Impossible! You better have a damn good rea-"

The Persian glared at both of them. "Gentle'mon, we are getting off topic! Sergeant Shadrach," he spoke more softly, "We are not asking you to simply lay your life on the line and become another machination of the state; I'd have thought that you would have already realized this, as a member of our esteemed Special Forces. What we are asking you to do is join a cause that combats something that has the potential to end civilization as we know it."

Shadrach couldn't help but snort at the claim. "End civilization? Shadow has the potential to end civilization? Do tell."

"This is no joking matter, Sergeant! Could you imagine what were to happen if something like that Skarmory were have to run amok on a battlefield or, worse yet, inside a populated area with civilians? Siria's report suggests that whoever's developing Shadow is increasing its magnitude, and it doesn't appear that we've seen the worst of it yet. May Arceus help us when we see the day when this… this bioweapon is brought to its true form."

"So what? I couldn't care about this war any less than I do now."

Lynch, nearly red in the face, rose abruptly. "Can't you put aside your petty doctrine for just a moment and consider the fact that this isn't just about Halcyia versus Tamsus? This is about us, the global civilization, versus Shadow. Yes, I've heard your pithy antiwar ranting and angst, but I'm really close to putting your ass in the slammer for however longer we're carrying out combat operations."

"Stand down!" Alem ordered.

"No, sir. I'm at wit's ends arguing here. Even though it may not seem like it, every second counts. We are endangering the HTR by sitting here arguing about something instead of processing intelligence or giving out orders! That's right," the enraged Salamence stated, staring down at Shadrach. "We are wasting critical time just to come and ask a reluctant, stubborn, and incredibly _arrogant_ bastard to do something that he can't even believe, let alone comprehend!"

"Colonel Lynch!" Siria interjected before Shadrach could counter. "I may not be in my place to lecture a Colonel, but I cannot tolerate you insulting one of my subordinates so brazenly any longer. You may have reason to believe what you believe, but name-calling is uncalled for! I request for you to apologize to Sergeant Shadrach. I will reprimand him properly for his misconduct later, but that falls under my purview, not yours."

It took all of the red dragon's nerve to not quail under the heat of Lynch's glare as the Salamence swerved to inspect her features. Amber met crimson as the two stared at each other, neither face wavering for an instant. Finally, Lynch heaved a massive sigh and sat back down, rubbing his temple. "Really, now… being talked down by a Staff Sergeant, of all 'mon. I must be going senile."

As the dragon sat contemplating, Siria shot a look at Shadrach. _We _will_ be talking about this later,_ she messaged, causing his muzzle to tighten in response.

"Anyhow," the Persian spoke, breaking the silence in the air, "Our offer still stands. There is a special process, should you choose to join HTR."

"And this process would be?" Siria asked. "Or is the information classified?"

"Normally classified, but we shall make an exception in this case. There are two types of Tactical Response soldiers – those who train and operate independently from the rest of the forces, including more unconventional ones such as Special Operations – as well as those who are blended with the regular forces. I understand that your squad is currently in the middle of carrying out operations in this region; because of that, if you become HTR soldiers, you will be considered the latter until we decide when it is best to shift you over to the independent category."

"So that means that some of the guys we work with are actually HTR?" Sirius suddenly asked.

Alem looked slightly uncomfortable as he gave the answer. "…yes."

"Interesting."

"There's one more thing, though," Lynch said, "Even though we're relaxing the entry standards, there are still bare minimums that must be cleared. After we looked over your files, we concluded that three may enter… and one may not." All eyes turned towards Sirius.

"Sergeant Sirius, I'm afraid that your qualifications don't give us enough leeway to enter you into the HTR, even with your status as a legendary. Now before you make your accusations," the Salamence said, holding up a claw to halt any disruption, "Know that it's not me who's making these decisions, but someone higher up the chain, so I can't do anything about it even if I wanted to."

"You all have forty-eight hours to return a response," Alem stated. "Sergeant Siria, you will call Colonel Lynch via encrypted channels as you did earlier with all of your decisions. We give you this time because we realize that there are tough decisions that must be made. If I said there was no pressure, then I would be lying. We are currently in a state of war, and require all of the help we need, so I implore you to consider that fact as well."

"Sir, we are running quite late to that presentation." The Salamence rose, looking at his watch.

"Yes, yes we are. I'm afraid that we must leave now," the general said, looking at each one of the soldiers.

"What about the RMs? They saw the Skarmory too," Siria objected.

The Persian took a second to think, putting a paw to his muzzle. "Hmm… they should be unaware of what Shadow actually is. If they do ask, tell them that it was an anomaly, if anything. And good bye; I do hope to see you soon." With a polite nod, Alem opened the door and left the briefing room. Lynch seemed to quickly follow, until he halted at the doorframe.

"Siria, I apologize for my misconduct. You haven't seen me outside of the office, have you?" He flashed her a grin before exiting, leaving her mouth slightly ajar and her squadmates gawking at her.

"…what."

"I don't know," a surprised Latias told her brother.

* * *

"So, what are we going to do?" This time in the cafeteria for lunch, the four Special Forces 'mon ate a distance away from the others as to avoid divulging potential secrets.

"Are there even benefits for joining HTR?" Levina asked. It had taken a majority of the morning for Siria to finally get her to talk after their discussion in the morning. "It seems as if they're asking us to do a high-risk job without extra payment or anything else."

Shadrach poked at his food, trying to figure out what artificialities the cooks had used for the day. "Well, maybe the meals would be better."

"Well," Siria started, shifting in her seat a bit, "I was actually discussing this with Lynch a couple days ago. Don't look at me that way; I shouldn't have kept it a secret, but you can't blame me. Anyways, a lot of the benefits are pay-wise. They pay higher wages, higher hazard pay, more retirement benefits, etcetera. Though I honestly don't think that we should go in just for the pay…."

"For what, then?" her brother asked.

"Well, maybe because you _want_ to? Isn't that what we did?" she responded. Sirius nodded in response, remembering their motives. They had ample opportunity staying in the regular forces, but Special Forces did far more than grunt work. The thrill of the job appealed to them far more than the daily menial tasks of the Army. "That, and the fact that we have an obligation to deal with whatever we come across. You saw Charlie; who do you know can possibly stop that power?"

Shadrach remarked, "Nuke or EON."

Siria gave him an exasperated sigh. "Something that doesn't cause a painful death for everybody kilometers around the impact site or foul up our political system so bad that even the troops get crap."

"Can't think of anything else."

"See? Now if we get this job," she said, making sure to use vague words at best, "We'll be able to get to the root of the problem and destroy it. That's why I want to join. Because we were involved before, we carry a burden, a responsibility. I don't want to see that power destroy millions of lives. I already saw it rip one apart before my eyes…."

"But it just doesn't make sense," the Umbreon protested. "How would Tamsus come into possession of such a weapon? And I still don't care about all of this; all I want is out. Out of the military, out of this mess."

"So you don't care if one of these Pokémon come and kills everybody here? Because that's what they'll do when they make the formula powerful enough. Isn't that a basic strategic ploy? Attack the source?"

"Well, I mean, of course, no one wants blood on their hands, but-"

"But blood will be shed if we let something like this continue to grow. I may sound like Lynch, but couldn't you put aside your selfishness for just a moment? There's a bigger picture here than just doing operation after operation without knowing where we're going. We have to think of things other than the bare minimum. Who else can the Halcyian Defense rely on to carry out these operations? Who else has dealt with this and lived?"

Sirius looked around at the rest of the room. "Gee, you're getting a bit loud, aren't you?"

"Well, I don't know about you, but I'm set on joining," the Latias continued, picking up her plate. "I really hope you come with me, but if you don't, then… well, I guess we'll see what happens."

"Hey, wait," Shadrach started, but it was too late. The red wings were already retreating down the hall. He leaned back into his chair and closed his eyes, taking a deep breath as he did so. "'mon, this isn't fair… does she _have_ to play the relationship card? Especially since she's the one who told me to 'never leave her.'"

"What?" the Latios at the table hollowly said, face somewhere in the recesses of a soup bowl. "Do tell."

The dark-type scowled in return. "I'm not telling you of all people. It's just that this Shadow thing doesn't add up. How does Tamsus have such a powerful weapon, and how did they procure it in such a short time? It all sounds fishy to me."

"Don't think that matters too much right now. If I were you, I'd be worried about encountering one of those things. You saw me. I fought that guy one on one and nearly lost. And no offense, but I'm sure I can beat you in hand-to-hand combat. Shadow 'mon are tough, and I can't help but agree with sis. They tell you that you have to cut the head of the beast, but they don't tell you how you get to it in the first place. I'm sure everything'll spill out in due time. Anyways, I'm done. Coming?"

"No, I want a bit of time to think," Shadrach returned.

The dragon cocked his head at him. "Well, suit yourself, but don't dwell too much on it. Even though she says she'll join no matter what, it'll take a lot for her to distance herself from you, so go easy on her, would you? Just saying."

The Umbreon frowned as Sirius left the table, trying to figure out everything in his mind. Theory warred against practice; book-knowledge warred against field reports. He then looked towards the Ampharos in front of him, surprised that she had been so quiet during the entire discussion. "So, Levina, what are you going to do?"

"Not going."

"Is there a reason?"

"Not really, no. I just don't think that I'm up for the rigor of it all, I guess," she said, though Shadrach could catch a faint tinge of red on her cheeks. He blinked at the color; when was the last time that the Ampharos showed any emotion besides irritation and general annoyance?

_Or it could be the fact that she's still impacted by the last mission_, he firmly reminded himself. _But why a blush, if anything?_

"Right," he said out loud, clearing his mind of random thoughts. "That's a reason, I guess. Are you done?"

"Yeah," she muttered, giving hardly a glance towards the untouched food in front of her. "Let's go."

* * *

Siria picked up the pistol and pulled the slide, checking to see if there were any bullets inside. Seeing none, she drove the magazine into the gun and hit the slide stop, wincing as the slide slammed a bullet forward with a loud _clack_. She had never liked the pistols: too weighty, too loud, and unnecessary, especially for a special attacker like her, but the powers that be demanded that all Special Forces members be proficient in both rifles and pistols.

She drew the gun before her and squinted at the target hardly twenty-five yards down range. The maximum suggested range was fifty, but she could easily throw a Dragon Pulse down to seventy-five without batting an eye.

The Latias readjusted her stance, making sure that her right foot was forward. Nothing was more ineffective than an imbalanced position, she told herself.

Her thumb caught the safety and her hands aligned the pistol. Three dots, two up close closing in on a third at the muzzle, told her that her sights were lined up with the chest of the steel target.

She pulled the trigger, eyes not following the brass piece that quickly ejected itself from the barrel of the gun. Then she pulled again and again, evoking a loud, piercing _bang_ every time she did so.

"Hey!" Her brother's voice caught her at the sixth shot, causing her to irritably flick on the safety and turn around. The Latios walked down from the top of the hill.

"Shooting again? Here, let me show you how it's done." Before his sister could object, Sirius snatched the pistol from her grip and twirled it on one of his fingers. She covered her face as he raised the gun with a single hand and, with body sideways, loosed five shots at the target in the space of three seconds.

"So how'd I do?" he asked, giving the gun back to Siria.

She looked around at the other shooting positions, making sure that there was no one else present on the range. "Terribly, probably," the Latias said, rolling her eyes. Her brother joined her as they walked up to the target.

There were five neat little holes centered in the middle of the chest, and five other ones randomly dispersed on the metal; Siria could see one on the left shoulder, two right below the chest….

"So maybe my accuracy went down in the past couple years," Sirius said with a lopsided grin.

"Sirius, why are you here?" the Latias asked with a sigh.

"You make it sound as if that's a bad thing."

She pointed to the target.

"Point. Anyways, I just wanted to let you know that my decision to join the HTR is a 'no.'"

"I already know that. Even you can't be as thick as to forget. Now, what's your _real_ reason for coming?"

By that point, Sirius was already retreating, quickly flying upwards and away from his sister. He cringed as a thin blue beam shot past him. _Get back here_, a voice said in his head. Looking back at the red dot against the white landscape, he wisely chose to heed her warning, descending at a much slower rate than at which he ascended.

"Why do you even need a pistol? And I thought you didn't want me here," he said, injecting an injured tone into his voice.

"Because they want me to. Now spit it out. Why did you come?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Out with it."

"Ok." He took a deep breath. "JustwonderinghowHTRwouldbe-bye!" He didn't even make it as far as before when he felt an intense pressure on his windpipe. Siria didn't need to say anything for him to return that time.

"What do you mean by that?" she demanded, unclenching her hand as Sirius rubbed his neck.

The Latios took a couple steps back as his sister stared at him. "I was just thinking about how you'd be when you join the HTR. Like, I heard their training and exercises were tough, and that their missions were deadly. It makes sense because they're an elite unit, but I was wondering, well, if we'd go home without you being in a box."

Siria blinked at his concern, hardly expecting that from the otherwise emotionally-comatose Latios. She dropped her death glare, suddenly feeling guilty about being so venomous to her brother. "I'll manage. It'll probably be tough, yes, but the benefits outweigh the risks. I'll take the training and I'll take the missions, and I promise that I'll come back in one piece. Alive," she confirmed when Sirius opened his mouth.

"Jeez. A simple 'no problem' would have done just as well. Always leave it up to Siria to give you an essay answer to a simple question."

"Is that all you expected when you came down here to ask me?" the Latias asked.

"Not really, no."

"Well, at least you're not out of touch…." She trained her pistol on an imaginary target far off in the distance. "Unlike my stupid butt of a boyfriend…."

Sirius froze for a second. "Wait, wha-" His protests were cut off by the harsh blast of the gun. "What?" he repeated. "The last time I heard you say that word was in like, what, seventh grade?"

"So?" she said rather defensively. "It's how I'd describe him, considering what he said yesterday." Another blast of the gun.

"So he doesn't like doing more than what's required. So what?"

The tone with which Siria responded could have frozen a glass of water. "So what?" she hissed. "So what? You're going to tell me that not caring for the welfare of our soldiers – no, the civilians – no, the entire _nation_ – is fine?"

"Let's not jump to conclusions here-"

"He's so stubborn!" she exploded. "When he has an ideology or an idea he'll never let go! It's just insane! No matter how much logic or debate anyone puts up, he never changes!"

"Don't you think you might be exaggerating just a little-"

"Exaggerating! That's a word I thought I'd never hear. If anything, he's downplaying this entire thing!"

Sirius chuckled. "At this rate, you might be just as stubborn as your boyfriend is. Ease up a bit; he's not Arceus or anything."

"What-"

"Oh, and I gotta go now," the Latios smoothly interrupted, "They'll be wondering why I was away for so long."

He ascended into the air a couple of feet before rummaging in one of his chest pockets for something. "Hey, Siria, extra mag." He fished the metal out of his pocket and threw it down at her before jetting away.

She caught the magazine smoothly, dropping the now-empty one in her pistol and sliding the new one in. Siria then walked the distance back to where she first started shooting, aimed the gun at the target, and squeezed the trigger.

Her expression of anger turned into one of surprise as a thin _click_ reached her ears. She ejected the magazine and caught it in her hand, peering inside to see if her bastard of a brother had thought it rude enough to prank her with an empty one. _No, not empty_, she noted, seeing a small piece of white paper pressed up against the lips of the magazine. The Latias carefully eased it out, not wanting to rip it against the force the spring held it up with.

Having performed the difficult part of the operation, she unfolded the paper and immediately started reading the text written on it. As her eyes worked their way down the page, the Latias couldn't help but grin as she read the last few lines.

* * *

"So," Lynch's baritone voice came over the radio set. "What are we looking at here?"

"Staff Sergeant Siria Long and Sergeant Shadrach Chase are accepting the request of Special Operations to enlist in the Halcyian Tactical Response. Sergeant Levina Akyra is refusing the request, and Sergeant Sirius Long is ineligible," the red dragon officially noted.

She heard some slight scratching on the other side. "So that Umbreon boy actually agreed? I'd think that he'd be the most adamant of those against joining, if anything."

"Well," Siria replied, holding a small piece of paper between her fingers and faintly smiling. "It looks like things have changed."


	21. A Normal Day

I'm wondering. Are short chapters or long chapters better, or does the length depend on the subject at hand?

* * *

Chapter 21: A Normal Day

"He's out. We can't have him jeopardizing our missions and objectives any longer."

"But-"

"No buts."

"Even if-"

"None of that, either."

"Jul's just misunderstood, that's all!" Nuwai looked up into the Umbreon's uncompassionate face, searching for some element, some chink in his stony façade to crack and exploit. Naturally, she couldn't find any.

Shadrach shook his head, folding his arms and staring down at her. "I can't think of a way we're misunderstanding him after he not only killed the Skarmory, but essentially hacked it to bits and shreds afterwards, not to mention that we had to forcibly store him in the stockades after he made an attempt on the helicopter pilot's life. Explain all of this to me."

"Well, he could have… could have…" the Gabite trailed off, first glancing around the barren landscape of the base before looking up at her far older counterpart. "Talal, can't you explain it to him?"

The Tropius gave off a longsuffering sigh, hinting that it wasn't the first time that he had to defend Jul. The Special Forces screeners had already given him enough trouble, and he wasn't looking forward to more. "Sergeant, Jul's situation is complicated."

"I've heard that more than enough times. Explain."

"He suffers from a mental aliment that none of us can quite understand. We do know that there is a certain medicine that can temporarily negate this for a period of time, namely two months at a time. However, for the past six months, we were unable to procure or develop this remedy because Tamsus had destroyed a good amount of our main base, including our farm, in a sudden tactical strike. Jul has been acting oddly since then."

Shadrach blinked. "What type of medicine are we talking about? And why haven't we been notified of this deficiency earlier?"

"We call it Qaffa, though your civilization may name it something different. The ingredients are hard to come by, and were impossible to grow since they came after us. As for why we haven't told you about it, well…." Talal shifted, showing one of his rare moments of uncomfortability.

"The truth. Now. We cannot operate as a functional unit without an elevated level of trust between us."

"My apologies, but I feel that it would not be prudent of me to disclose the truth."

Shadrach twitched. "This isn't about prudence. Special Forces is about getting the facts. We get the intelligence, we come back alive. We don't have intelligence, we'll be lucky if someone only gets hurt. And judging from what you've told me so far, there's a lot that you haven't been telling us. You're far older than I, and undoubtedly understand how Jul's outburst on our last mission endangered all of our lives. Now please, I don't want to have to play deception with my colleagues. We already have to do that with Tamsus."

"Sergeant, I have my limits as to what I can disclose."

The Umbreon gritted his teeth and eyed the grass-type's angular, defiant face. Out of all the cultural elements of the mountain 'mon, the foremost just had to be pride. He was more than aware that there was no way for him to force Talal to divulge information that regarded his honor. He couldn't play it hardball, either; that would simply deepen the rift between them. Maybe he could get Siria to ease it out of the Tropius later.

"Fine. We'll figure out what we'll do later when the next mission comes up. However, as of now, Jul cannot be a member in any tasks assigned to us until we get a concise explanation of everything. Ward will replace him in our missions if the screeners find him suitable. I really don't want to do this, but he's too big of a security liability as is." The Umbreon conveniently left out that he personally hated the Leafeon's guts, but that small fact wouldn't appeal much to Jul's closest friends.

"I see." Talal's face hardened into a stoic expression before he nodded and walked off back to the main buildings. The Gabite turned to follow, but she halted as something touched her shoulder.

Shadrach gave the Gabite a look-over before addressing her. "Nuwai, how's the training going with Sirius?" It would be a definite problem if she didn't get the skillset necessary to do their next mission.

She opened her maw, and then held it as she thought of a response. "Well, it's going good so far, I think. He's trying to teach me how to watch enemy movements, but I don't think I'm getting it too much," Nuwai confessed, looking quite ashamed. "Sorry if I'm not meeting your expectations…."

"Don't apologize. We all need to start somewhere." _Though it would help if you accelerated your learning_, he mentally continued. In their combat situations, she needed to immediately know the difference between an enemy and a civilian, lest a clusterfuck of a political situation result if she killed one of the latter. "When's your next session?"

"Five minutes ago," she responded without skipping a beat.

"Err… right." The Umbreon scratched his head, leaving an awkward silence to settle between the two of them.

"I think I should get going now."

Shadrach nodded. "Yes. Yes, you should."

He sighed as he watched Nuwai dart away, wondering what exactly would happen to their squad. The Umbreon slowly walked back to base and hoped wistfully that a potentially homicidal member becoming a definitely homicidal one and the addition of a rather overprotective Lucario would be the most of his worries.

* * *

Sirius brandished a knife at the Gabite before him. "Ok. When I attack you, counter the way I taught you. Remember, aim to incapacitate, not to kill."

She nodded tersely and gripped her rifle, causing Sirius to form a thin blue shield around the blade of his weapon. It would blunt any blows and prevent it from cutting into the dragon's hide, but that didn't necessarily mean that it wasn't still dangerous. A good club to the neck or a swift jab to the head could still be fatal.

The Latios immediately drew his arm downward in a slashing motion, causing Nuwai to pull back to avoid the knife aimed at her stomach. She let out a slight breath as she then swung her rifle straight into Sirius' arm, knocking it aside for just a moment before she jerked it in the opposite direction. The half-second of disorientation was more than enough to allow Nuwai to connect the flash suppressor on the end of the rifle barrel directly with Sirius' temple. With a grunt, the Latios fell to the snow, feeling an intense throbbing in his head.

"Very… good… ugh." Sirius cradled his head in his hands, trying to shake off the newly-acquired headache he received from the blow. "I think you got… armed combat down…."

"Are you alright?" the Gabite concernedly asked, kneeling down a bit to peer at her mentor.

He groaned and got up, smirking a bit as he shook his head one last time. "I'll be fine, I think. I don't have many brain cells left to lose, according to Levina."

"Is she really that mean?"

"To me, at least. Much nicer to girls than guys, if you ask me. Anyways, you're good for armed combat. Now, throw the rifle down. Do the same without it, and use whatever moves you want."

She set the rifle down, letting it sink into the snow as she readied herself in a fighting stance. Going through the same procedure as before, Sirius charged, upward at her chest instead of down at her stomach.

Nuwai instinctively ducked down to avoid the first slash, looking for the kneecap that she should strike to disable the Latios. However, she blinked as she saw an appendage that had previously not occurred to her as a potential target: a blue, triangular wing. She kicked at the center of the wing, planting her foot on it.

Contrary to her expectations, the wing did not partially give way as she hit bone. Rather, the entire appendage bent only slightly, allowing her to fully press on it. A sharp gasp from the Latios above her accompanied the dull force of a knife driving into her neck.

Sirius quickly righted himself before hissing and grabbing his wing in pain, bending it back so that he could rub it with both hands. "Unorthodox," he managed to get out between myriad grunts. "It only works because your boot is fuc- I mean, freezing cold. I don't advise using it against flying-types in general, because their response time is usually good enough to catch you on the move, like I did."

The Gabite looked down at her feet and couldn't help but agree with his simple analysis. It was definitely cold, for one, not to mention that dragons inherently were weak to ice. "But why was your wing solid?" she asked. "And how can you do that now, bending it back like that?"

"Part adrenaline, part thought. If you think it, it just happens. It's hard to explain, really. You'll understand it when you evolve and get Garchomp fins. Those work a lot like my wings." Sirius then bit his tongue as she saw Nuwai's eyes widen for a moment at the name of her evolution.

"If I evolve, you mean," she instinctively replied, sullenly looking downwards. "Like that'll happen in a million years."

The Latios mentally groaned, knowing that he would have to try hard to get her out of her angsty state. "Don't worry about it! You've been improving a lot, and it's only been like, what, a week?"

"But you don't have that desire, that impulse to evolve, though! Maybe I should have been born as a Latias or something…."

"Hey, I wanted to feel like what evolving was like at one time. My sis and I got robbed of that chance to experience it, so don't be so sad about not evolving early! Not to mention, when I was your age I was worrying about not failing in school, not about something that would set me up for the rest of my life."

"No, at my age I'm worrying about keeping myself alive and being sure to have enough food to eat," Nuwai snarked.

_Great. And now she's not only bitter, but sarcastic too._ "You'd give a Bagon competition any day of the week," he muttered in response.

"So?"

This time Sirius groaned out loud. "Let's just drop this and keep on training," he gently urged, drawing his knife out of his sheath again. "Alright, same thing as before. Keep aware, though. I might throw a few tricks in." Nuwai hardly heard the words coming out of his mouth as she readied herself once more.

To the Gabite, it was if each moment happened in slow motion. As the Latios thrust his knife forward in a jab, she turned her body to sidestep the attack. As Nuwai bent her knees, she snagged one foot behind Sirius' forward one, holding it in place as she aimed her other foot right at his kneecap. If she executed it right, she could give most adversaries a debilitating limp for the rest of their lives.

She hit the ground on her side, wincing as the Latios' leg left her vision. She quickly flipped on her back to see Sirius floating in the air, still holding knife in hand. As he shot down to embed the blade in her chest, she felt sheer rage build up within her. _I've had enough of this. It's been too long since I've actually won. I need to WIN!_

Nuwai roared and let out a searing Dragon Rage, filling the space between her and the enemy's face with bluish flames. She didn't stop when Sirius reared back in surprise, breathing hellfire wherever the Latios darted. Her red-tinted vision hardly caught the blue figure's form wavering for a second before her Dragon Rage consumed it in a maelstrom of fire.

Nuwai then closed her maw when a tremendous pain rattled her head. Sirius knelt over her, removing his hands from her temples. "What… how…?" she rambled, feeling quite awful from his treatment.

"Double Team," he stated matter-of-factly, pulling her up off the ground. "Are you really that obsessed with evolving? If I had kept still you would've given me a few third degree burns."

"Well-"

Sirius cut off her protests with a wave of his hand. "You evolve by gaining experience, not raging around and spitting fire at whatever you see. Evolution occurs when you have sufficient training and growth, except in the most extreme of cases."

Her attention was squarely focused on the last three words he uttered, though. "Extreme cases?" the dragon asked inquisitively.

"Deals mostly with psychological stress, though it can be physical too. Like an aggressive shouting match or a brawl. I didn't happen to make anyone evolve, though. I think you only evolve when you're on the winning side." He grinned loosely as he recalled the memories from years past, leaving Nuwai to wonder what exactly the sergeant in front of her had done besides keeping up grades back then.

"Not that I'm encouraging you to pick a fight for the sake of evolution, though," Sirius hastily said. "It's just a random thing in stress-based situations. No more, no less."

Nuwai cursed under her breath before looking up at him. "You work for rewards. They don't come by just because you try something chancy."

"Fine," she huffed, shoulders slumping a bit in both depression and exhaustion.

"Anyways, it's close to twelve-hundred. Want to go for lunch?" the Latios asked, referencing his wristwatch.

The Gabite's glare caused him to back up a bit. "Ok, maybe not," he rectified, taking hold of his knife once more. "On guard." He chuckled at the phrase before he charged at Nuwai, face losing all traces of levity.

* * *

"Thank you for doing this for me, Ward," Siria complimented.

The Lucario looked at her, ducking low to avoid the flap of the tent. "Not a problem, Staff Sergeant Long."

"You don't have to call me that, you know. Siria's fine."

"No, Staff Sergeant Long, I prefer to call individuals by their full title."

The Latias and Lucario stood before a mock jail cell. A bitter-looking Leafeon sat on a chair behind it, staring at the wall as if he could disintegrate it with his mind. "Can you possibly explain his tendencies? If we can't justify his actions, we don't have a choice but to let him go, and none of the others really told us much. Talal certainly didn't, to my surprise."

Ward closed his eyes and nodded. "Talal is reticent. He will never speak out of turn, and will do nothing but defend those he understands and cares for most. His unwillingness to speak the truth stems from the fact that the truth will sometimes tarnish the image of those he intends to defend."

"Ah…."

"However, this is an issue within itself, an Achilles' Heel, in modern nomenclature. His inability to disclose the faults of those closest to him results in a rather narrow, biased view of the world in general. He may be old, yes. He may be wise, definitely. But perfect? Hardly."

Siria blinked at the incredibly direct analysis, confused by the emotions she detected from the steel-type. No animosity poured from his heart; rather, a good measure of frankness and solemnity flowed outward. "Erm… why are you so blunt?" Not that it's a bad thing, it's just that it's a bit of a surprise to me that you so openly tell your friends' problems."

"It is a surprise to you because you live in a society where roundabout manners are standard. The truth offends, so society makes its best efforts to suppress it in favor of idealism. Hence, we have false niceties and attitudes that do nothing to deceive. When you are confronted with the truth, you are shocked. But," the Lucario sighed, "I digress. Let us get to the subject at hand."

"Right." Siria couldn't steady her senses, though. There was something about Ward that unnerved her, but she couldn't put her finger on it. Was it the way he so strategically detected the root of her surprise? The way he was so easily inclined to highlight his friends' negative traits? The fact that he let a manifesto rip in response to a simple question?

"Talal is right about him having a mental disorder. Years back, Jul and Din were two brothers. We had high hopes for them both, as one was physically adept while the other was rather bright and cunning. However, as luck would have it, Tamsus found one of our hideouts, and in the siege, they managed to lay their hands on Jul. We thought him lost as an Eevee, so we didn't try to pursue after the captors because it would have been suicide to do so."

"Years later, I was on a routine patrol when I found a Leafeon passed out in the snow. I took him in under the assumption that he was a Tamsus agent, and that we could interrogate him later. After he awoke in our compound, we found that he was something quite different. He attempted to kill me the moment he awoke, which garnered this wound here." Ward unbuttoned his fatigues slightly to reveal a pale scar streaking down his entire torso, snaking inches from his chest spike. "After some interrogation, we found him to be Jul, aged considerably and evolved quite possibly against his will."

"To successfully extract the information out of him, we fed him a medicine called Qaffa. What Talal may not have told you about this is that it was a mutual exchange. It appeared that Tamsus was performing some experimentation on him, which resulted in his altered mindset. Reading his Aura also told me that their second goal was to increase his strength and speed, as well as promote rapid evolution, but I do not believe that he performed to their specifications."

Siria blinked, strongly reminded of a certain drug. "Do you know how they tried to do this?" she asked of him.

He shook his head. "No, I do not. There may be a way of finding out, but it was not our concern to find what they had done to him at that point. He was, essentially, our best informant. Every time we would give him Qaffa, he would give us key information, such as the amount of guards at a certain target or the names of Tamsus officers. Eventually, we grew on him. I doubt that he had any underlying positive sentiment for Tamsus, so he chose to join our movement."

"The last time I saw him was years ago. On a raid on the factory that you so kindly demolished several days ago, I got separated from the rest of the unit. They tranquilized me and stored me against my will. I would give you the specifics of my captivity, but I do not believe that they are pertinent at the moment. What is pertinent, though, is what you plan to do with Jul." Both of them looked at the Leafeon.

"Well, first off, if we give him Qaffa, he will return to his normal state, right?"

"Yes. He returns to a sane state for about two or three weeks if he consumes enough."

Siria knew just who to contact to find the modern equivalent of the medicine. "Excuse me," she stated, retreating to a corner of the room. Ward took a chair and sat on it, proceeding to stare at Jul.

_Sirius. Sirius, can you hear me?_ she faintly sent out.

_Yeah, I can- oh shit what the fu-_ Siria was less than pleased about the hemorrhage of vulgarities he let out.

_Sorry, Nuwai landed a hit on me, right in the side. Thanks a lot_, she heard him reply. _And I can hear you cheering for her, too! Don't you have any love for me?_

_ No._

_ Glad to see I have a friend in you._

The Latias rolled her eyes. _Anyways, Sirius, I need you to ID a medicine that the RMs are telling me about. They call it "Qaffa" or something of that sort. Is there a modern equivalent?_

She nearly heard him go into a minor fit of laughter. _Qaffa? That's slang for a street drug, you know. Used to sell- hear, sorry, about it back then._

_What?_

_ Anyways, the military doesn't approve too highly of controlled substances, obviously. We medics aren't really authorized to use them, even though the doctors back home use it in small amounts sometimes. Some of the braver medics carry it around. I don't because I couldn't find any. Err, because I didn't want to risk getting caught._

_Riiiiiiiiiiight. Well, can you possibly get some?_

_ For you? Gee, sis, I didn't know you were into that stuff._

_ She snorted out loud. Are you crazy? No, it's not for me!_

_ Then who is it for?_

_ A patient._

_ Would that patient be you?_

_ No! It's for Jul, alright? _

She heard a short silence as Sirius considered the truthfulness of her statement. _Alright then. I'll see what I can do, but don't be surprised if I get a week in the slammer because of this._

_ Well, if it jeopardizes your ranking and position, I don't want you to-_

_ It's fine, Siria. Don't worry about it. A lot of 'mon do it anyways, so it won't be too hard to get it without being traced._

_ Thanks, Sirius. Just be careful, alright?_

_ No problem. And don't worry; I'm always care- oof! I'm not ready yet, Nuwai!_ Siria could hear him shout, leaving her to wonder if Sirius was going to be as cautious as he suggested he would be.

She looked back at Ward, who was still staring at Jul. "We'll be able to get some Qaffa in the next few days," she enunciated.

"That is good to know," he replied, turning towards her. "If we are able to give Jul the medication, he will be at his prime. I do not know what possessed him to do what he did inside of the factory, but I can assure you that he is far more skilled than that when he is fully sane. The only thing I wonder about is how much stronger he has gotten since the last time I saw him..."

The two of them stood silently as they watched the imprisoned Leafeon.

* * *

"Here, take this detonator. If you want to be alive at the end of today, don't press it." Levina passed the device in question to the Vaporeon besides her. He gingerly handled the detonator, making sure to not touch it anywhere near the trigger.

As the two of them retreated back to a recently-dug trench, Din made sure to trail the thin, sinewy wire that connected his detonator to the claymore that rapidly grew smaller and smaller in his vision. Once in the trench, Levina took up a pair of binoculars to watch the claymore that they left some distance across the field while Din made some last checks on his detonator.

The Ampharos eyed the grayish box, expecting it to explode in a flurry of smoke at any moment. When it didn't, she annoyedly set her binoculars down and glared at Din. "Why didn't you detonate it?"

He looked up innocently at her. "Because you didn't tell me to?"

"Well, now I'm telling you to."

"Wilco," he replied with a sloppy salute. Snorting, Levina simply took up the binoculars and set her vision on the claymore.

_BOOM._

As a multitude of puffs of snow kicked up before her, Levina widened her eyes and ducked, avoiding the five-hundred-or-so ball bearings the claymore expelled at the two entrenched 'mon. As she looked to her right, she saw that Din had a half-fascinated, half-frightened look plastered on his blue face. She could guess the reason for the latter.

"Din."

"Levina."

"Can you read?"

"... possibly."

"What did the claymore say?"

"'Front towards enemy.'"

"Which way did you face the front?"

"Towards the... enemy?"

"... Din?"

"Levina?"

"Do you know how bright a Christmas tree shines?"

"Yes."

"Very bright, right?"

"Yes."

"How much electricity do you think it'll take to make a Vaporeon glow as bright as one of those?"

"A lot."

"How about a number?"

"Afraid I don't know one."

"Would you like to calculate?"

"Using formulas?"

Levina's hands began to crackle. "I prefer experimentation myself."

"May I ask a question?"

"State it."

"Would you be experimenting on _this_ Vaporeon?"

"... yes."

Din got up slowly. "Excuse me for a moment." He then turned tail and sprinted as fast as he could from the homicidal Ampharos.

As she watched the finned 'mon quickly retreat, Levina sighed and killed the electric charge in her body. She didn't feel like cooking Vaporeon steaks today, as much as the idea appealed to her. Rather, she was still obsessing over something a friendly Latias had told her a few days ago.

_It takes time... you'll eventually get over it and move on... would you let the 'mon who died see you moping and crying over their death?_

_But _how much_ time?_ she bitterly asked herself. _I don't know how it's so easy for her to stow away her feelings, even though I've been in Special Forces for longer than she has. Or am I just emotional? No, that's impossible; no one can be more emotional than Siria-_

"Hey," Din called, peering down at her from the top of the trench. "You're not really intent on killing me today, are you?"

She gave him a wave of the hand and sighed, but didn't take any action when he slid into the trench and sat next to her. "If you're really that peeved about the claymore thing, I'm sorry I screwed it up. It was an accident, I swear."

"Just don't do it again. Of course, that's what I told you last time. And the time before that. And the time before that time..."

Din cocked his head at the Ampharos. "What's up with you? Normally you'd start yacking and chewing my head off for half-an-hour about how I'm a retard and how 'all males are like that,' though I don't know if that's a good or bad thing."

"Nothing," she returned irritably. "I'm perfectly fine."

"Yeah, sure, and you're not going to kill me for all of these questions."

"Wait, what?"

He laughed. "You might think that you're good at hiding it, but then again, it's mean to lie to yourself."

"Do you want to start experimenting again? I want to know the answer to my question."

"Arceus no, but even if you wanted to, you probably couldn't, could you? I'm right here; take a shot at me."

Levina simply snorted and looked away, causing Din to smirk broadly. "See, you can't do it!" he gloated. "You try to act all tough and stuff on the outside, but when you get challenged, you ball up! You're actually pretty nice under all of that hate and sarcasm, huh?"

"Ex-_cuse_ me?"

"Yeah, and you're probably pretty emotiona- argh!" Din retracted his foot as a bolt of electricity sparked next to it. "Ok, I'm going, I'm going! Don't kill me!"

Levina watched as the Vaporeon jumped out of the trench and ran for his life, suspecting that he probably wouldn't be coming back for a third time. What truly disturbed her, though, was not that she was on the verge of killing him, but rather what he said.

"I am not emotional," she stated out loud for herself to hear.

_It's mean to lie to yourself_, Din's voice immediately returned.

She protested, "But I'm not lying!"

_Even if you wanted to, you probably couldn't, could you?_

_ "_What are you, kidding me? Of course I could!" _Wait, what?_ she thought.

_You try to act all tough and stuff on the outside, but when you get challenged, you ball up! You're actually pretty nice under all of that hate and sarcasm, huh?_

_ "_I am _not_ nice."

_It's mean to lie to yourself._

"Damn Din!" the Ampharos shouted, chucking her binoculars as far out into the snow as she could.

* * *

Siria eyed the Walrein sitting across her at the table.

"We have a new mission for Alpha Team," he stated officially, sliding a folder to her. "Here are the details."

She wordlessly took the documents and looked at the cover sheet, frowning as she read down the page. After reading it over twice, she asked, "Why isn't this something that another unit can cover? To be honest, it doesn't look like something that's imperative."

"You misunderstand. The target is vital to our strategy. As soon as this is cleared, the regular Army divisions will make their first attack on Riyaq. This is the only thing that is preventing us from making a full-fledged assault on the city."

"But this...?"

He nodded gravely. "Even though the target may not seem like a particularly important one, a failure to neutralize it will mean destruction of no less than thirty-three percent of our ground forces. See, this is responsible for coordinating most, if not all, of the Tamsus forces embedded in the city. It's true that any of our SF units can do it. Hell, it's possible that we could send this down to the Airborne troops if the circumstances called for it. But there is no room for error here. If we fail, Tamsus will be alerted of our movements and appropriate their forces accordingly."

"When do we need to perform this by?"

"Whenever you feel that both you and your RMs are ready for the task. The other divisions are on standby right now, prepared to move in on the city on a moment's notice. Thus, it should be known that as soon as you secure the position, the Army will storm the city. If all goes well, then we will be finished with Riyaq so we can move on to other objectives. Tamsus is unusually weak right now, so we need to take advantage of all opportunities we have right now."

Siria nodded tightly and stood up. "Thank you for the information," she said. "I will discuss this with my squad and return a list of required equipment a day before execution."

As she walked out the briefing tent back to the barracks, the Latias couldn't help but feel a sense of foreboding. _If this is so concerning to them, why don't they deploy HTR soldiers instead of Special Forces? But is it really that much of an issue? It seems so _routine_, especially with all of the other missions we had to contend with..._

She shook her head to dispel her thoughts. _Either way, we have to complete this mission. There's no use worrying about it. I just hope that nothing goes wrong._

As she stared up at the pale, cloudy sky, she reevaluated her thought. _'mon, I'm not going to end up eating those words at all. Not. At. All._


	22. Deception

Trying out some stylistic changes and stuff.

* * *

Chapter 22: Deception

Siria clambered into the transport helicopter and looked out at the other figures approaching the helipad. She gestured at them to hurry up, but made little effort to compete against the thundering roar of the rotors shredding the air above her.

Shadrach was the second into the chopper. He sat down brusquely next to the Latias, wrestling with his headset and the rest of his kit. "Siria," he said, "Give me a rundown of who's coming and who's not."

She ignored the other 'mon who boarded the chopper, surprised that the Umbreon's voice was actually intelligible over the mike. The dragon, attributing the phenomenon to the lower pitch of the helicopter, removed that thought from her mind and focused her attention on his question. "Levina and Din aren't with us. I still don't believe that Levina's mentally ready for the mission, and Din isn't going to be too helpful at close-quarter battle. We don't need their specializations for this run."

The earbud hissed in her ear. "You left _those_ two together?" Sirius asked. "Do you want the whole base to be vaporized by the time we get back?"

Siria felt her seat lurch as the helicopter took flight. "What do you mean by that?"

"Don't you know... never mind." A low sigh accompanied his defeatist remark, making the Latias feel a bit uncomfortable that her brother, of all 'mon, knew more about her soldiers' interpersonal dynamics than she did.

"They'll be fine, I'm sure." A previously unfamiliar voice made its way onto the airwaves. "I think my brother has standards, low as they may be."

The Latias blinked at Jul's statement and added another tick to her greatly expanding list of how many times she had misjudged the Leafeon. They had treated his ailment a few days prior to the operation, but she didn't expect him to be so different inside. Instead of an introverted, homicidal maniac, he actually turned out quite normal and casual on the outside. Of course, that eased her suspicions only slightly, but it was still surprising nonetheless.

"Alright," Shadrach said in an attempt to reign everybody's attention back to a more pressing issue. "We need to review the battle plan for one last time. Call me a prude, but we cannot fail here. Let's start with infiltration." He nodded towards Siria.

The buzz of several additional helicopters cut off her initial attempt to speak. As she glanced out of the door, the Latias saw three small choppers flanking their larger, bulkier one, peering at them with difficulty as their black hulls blended perfectly against the night sky. A quick inspection under their short, stubby wings revealed that they were armed to the teeth: two high-power gatling guns and several rocket pods on each helicopter greeted whatever enemies awaited them with several hundred pound's worth of lead and explosives.

"Well," she said, now accustomed to the attack helicopters' presence. "The attack helis will strafe the area to neutralize any enemy combatants. From there, we'll rappel down to the target building."

"Shadrach, Ward, and I will take up defensive positions and prepare to guard against any remaining attackers," Talal said.

The Umbreon shifted slightly. "I have contact with the three birds, so I'll direct their fire to ground units."

"The rest of us will stack up against the front door of the target. If it's locked, I'll blow it open." Sirius' hands glowed a faint blue as he made his remark.

"I'll throw a flashbang in there after the door's breached," said Nuwai, now much more familiar with CQB than she was when she first started cross-training with Special Forces. "And I go in and cover the left...?" She looked at Sirius for help.

"Yeah. I'll be right on your heels for the right side, so don't worry about anybody there."

Siria said, "I'll take the middle-left, and Jul will take the middle-right. If the target is not present in the room, we'll take up the second story. He should be in the bedroom if he's normal."

"Since he's a Nidoking, I'll take up the fight with him and knock him unconscious," Jul said. "From there, this helicopter will meet with us on the roof and make a clean extraction."

"What is our secondary plan if the main plan fails?" Shadrach frowned slightly at the depressing but all-too-true doubt.

Siria took out a PDA-like device and tapped at the screen. "We'll escape and rendezvous with the chopper at this LZ." She showed a point a distance away from their area of attack. "But if all goes well, we'll be done with this in about three minutes. Maybe less."

The dull thud of the helicopters occupied the space between the seven armed 'mon as they each contemplated their individual tasks.

"Hey," Sirius said to break the silence. "Why are we going after this guy, anyways? You never told us."

Siria straightened up, chasing her thoughts away. "He's the center of all the Tamsus operations in and around the city. By removing him, we create chaos and misguidance among Tamsus so that our military can move in and destroy resistance quickly. It helps that he's demanding, at least."

"Demanding?"

"All of his subordinates need him to approve of operations and actions before they carry them out. If we behead the top, the lower units can't operate."

Sirius leaned back into his seat. "Ah."

* * *

_Viiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiinnnnn_.

_Bzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzt_.

"So some of the deadliest weapons in the world sound like Golem farts," Sirius said casually as he watched a virtual wall of bullets, courtesy of the allied gunships, tear into the buildings below them. "Wouldn't _dakka dakka_ have been a better sound?"

"Pay attention, Sirius. We only have half a minute left before landing." Siria watched as two thin rockets trailed from a helicopter and shot towards the ground. The explosions illuminated the bodies of a couple 'mon before permanently erasing their existence, throwing body parts into the obscurity of the dust cloud lingering behind.

The sudden drop of the helicopter only intensified the Latias' queasiness as she turned away from the mutilation. _No time for that. No time to be sorry._

As the wheels touched upon cracked pavement, Siria bailed out of the helicopter and began to mentally scan the area for remaining enemy combatants. She instantly regretted that, finding nothing but the brainwaves of half-alive, agonized souls crying for help that would never come.

She raised her head up, shoving her nauseous thoughts down. "Get a move on! Stack up!"

The Latias darted out of the road and into an alleyway. She saw the door of their target approaching rapidly, and halted so that Nuwai and Sirius could assume their positions ahead of her.

As the dragons in question nestled themselves besides the door, something bumped her from behind. "Ready?" Jul asked. "Analysis of interior?"

She closed her eyes for a moment. "Eight on the ground floor, six on the top. We're going in hot. Sirius, whenever you're ready."

He merely grunted a reply, sound made almost inaudible from the blasting of machine gun and rocket fire surrounding them. "Reinforcements," Shadrach said over the mike as if interpreting her thoughts. "We don't have long."

The Latias quickly turned her attention to the scene in front of her. With a quick jerk of his hand, Sirius thrust a slight Shadow Ball at the door.

CRACK.

The lock burst apart at the force of the attack, allowing Nuwai to tap the door open and toss in a grenade with perfect accuracy. _Unlike Tia,_ the Latias noted with a faint flicker of a smile.

BANG.

"Go, go, go!" Nuwai and Sirius lunged into the door, the former drawing her rifle in preparedness. Siria followed, breath hot with the vestiges of a Dragon Pulse.

The interior of the house did not fail her expectations. The instinct to look left and right sternly oppressed by years of training, Siria looked straight ahead and identified her first target: a Raticate aiming a rifle straight at her gut.

She let loose her charged Dragon Pulse before he could react. The blue beam crossed the distance between them in a matter of milliseconds and pierced his body. As the body slammed against the wall and slid downward, Siria caught the images of a Tauros and a Rapidash neighing out in pain through the fist-sized hole she put in the insurgent's chest.

Her attention was quickly diverted from the painting on the wall when a small, round object tapped against her boot.

"Oh, Arceus-"

It was at that moment when Jul kicked the grenade out from under her and into a door. As several shouts of pain emanated from the next room, the Latias gaped slightly at the Leafeon, trying to grasp just how in the hell he was able to do what he did at such an impossible speed. Her stunned state only increased as he bounded forward and punched a Swampert in the gut. The 'mon flew back and slammed against a plaster wall, leaving cracks as he slid downward in unconsciousness.

Instead of stacking up against the door leading to the next room, everybody simply stared at Jul. "What?" he asked.

His simple question jerked Siria out of her contemplative state. She motioned at all of them to stack up against the door in preparation for another incursion.

"Hold," she called, suddenly aware of a presence behind the wall. It was waiting... no, _cowering..._

The Latias grabbed lightly at Nuwai's rifle, who relinquished it without complaint. Siria slowly crept around the corner of the door, aiming down the sights as she did so. She specialized in special attacks, yes, but when it boiled down to pure reaction times, guns were simply better.

Seeing nothing in a majority of the room, she finally stepped in and looked down to her right.

An Ivysaur, looking no more than ten years of age, stared at her with surprise before charging at her with a knife. Taken aback for a second at his apparent change in emotion, Siria did what her brother had taught her years before. A quick jerk of the rifle to the arm, then to the head.

"Clear!" She handed the rifle back to Nuwai as the Gabite entered. "And stairs!" she said as she saw a staircase rising to the second story.

They ascended quickly in single-file order, with Sirius covering everything ahead of him and Nuwai looking cautiously around for anything that the Latios could possibly have missed. "Stairs clear!" she called.

Siria looked around in the hall before settling on a door not even three yards from the stairs. "This is it," the Latias said after a brief scan. "He's in there alone." _And if he doesn't surrender, we can make him_.

Sirius' hands grew dark as he formed another Shadow Ball. They all knew the threat that lurked behind the door; room-clearing procedure only impeded their speed if all hostile elements were known.

CRACK.

Unlike the previous time, the wooden door tumbled down under the force of Sirius' attack. With nothing arresting their attack, Nuwai and Siria rushed into the room, only to hastily dodge a large, purple tail that crashed into the floor below them. "Surrender!" the red dragon shouted obligatorily. Inside, though, she knew that surrendering was tantamount to death, especially for Tamsus 'mon.

"Yeah?" the indignant Nidoking asked, lashing out at them with his tail once more. "Over my dead bod-"

It was at that peculiar moment when Jul kicked at his stomach and knocked the wind out of him. As the Nidoking gasped for air and tried to recompose himself, the Leafeon aimed a quick strike at his neck.

"Over your unconscious body, more like," said Jul, seeming to pick the Nidoking up with hardly any effort. "Siria, is the helicopter positioned for extraction?"

"Get on the roof first. We'll talk there." As Jul and Nuwai started for the next stairwell, she adjusted a knob on her headset to tune in to a different frequency. "Echo One to Stalker Five."

"Stalker Five here, flying lonesomely. What'cha want?"

"Extraction on the roof."

"Gotcha." An incessantly loud buzzing began to fill the sky, calling for her to get the hell out before the reinforcements Shadrach mentioned found their way to her. She had to wait for the rest of her troops to make it the roof as well, though.

Shadrach burst through the room and onto the staircase, not even looking at Siria before going on to the roof. Ward and Talal followed in an equally agitated state. Which left...

"Sirius, you idiot! Hurry up!" she shouted through the door.

"Wait, sis, hold up."

"If you haven't noticed, we're running on a tight sched-" Her voice immediately faded as the Latios in question walked into the room. The small, wooden box with twenty-something vials of black, soul-sucking liquid he held was more than enough to send shivers down her spine.

"W-what is that?" she asked, fearing the answer.

"Uhh, hold on." Sirius fumbled for a piece of paper in one of his breast pockets. "There were some papers on top of the stuff. Shadow, fifteen percent or something. Is this what they were talking about? Seems pretty weird... sis? You look pretty pale."

The Latias stood staring at the vials, newfound terror piercing her mind. To think that Tamsus was in possession of _that_ much Shadow...

Her brother slammed the box shut with finality. "I don't think we need to care about this right now. Siria, let's go. C'mon."

She wordlessly followed her brother up the stairs and out into the star-bespeckled night. The helicopter she asked for hovered a foot above the concrete building, which allowed Talal and Ward to draw the Nidoking's body up into the transport. Shadrach manned one of the door guns, helping Jul and Nuwai actively scan for threats that could still exist.

Sirius jumped onto the chopper with box in hands, nearly slipping when his foot squished the poison-type's leg. He thought nothing of it until he seated himself. _Wait, squished? Since when did legs squish? And since when were Nidoking that color?_

"Siria!" Shadrach yelled. He pointed at the Nidoking's body, which was slowly turning a very vivid pink. "We've been had!"

She whipped her head back from the surroundings. "What?" Her perplexity changed to surprise when the body began to lose its large, defined form. Her surprise then changed to horror when the Nidoking reverted into a plain, pink, shapeless blob. A Ditto.

Hundreds of thoughts raced through the Latias' mind as she considered the implications of this new development. One that stood out particularly clear from the rest in her mind was...

"Oh shit."

Siria's world went from starry night to blinding day as gunfire erupted all around her.


	23. Crossfire Barrage

I'm a monster. This chapter is the one where the storyline takes a considerable turn to the dark, so the ending may be a bit squicky. Watch out.

Don't own the song (or album, for that matter) Crossfire Barrage; Crow's Claw has that honor. Check them out if you like amazing metal Touhou.

* * *

Chapter 23: Crossfire Barrage

"Taking heavy fire!" Sirius shouted for redundancy. Shadrach rolled his eyes, starting up the door gun on the helicopter. He blasted away at the shadowy figures poised upon the rooftops of nearby buildings. _We've been ambushed_, he noted hurriedly as he felt the heat radiate off of the barrel. _We've been ambushed, and someone set us up. But who?_

"Echo One, we can't take this fire anymore. Get up," the helicopter pilot said coolly.

"Hold on, we got a casua- argh!" Shadrach let go of the minigun's triggers for a moment at Siria's shout, frantically worrying that she had been shot. "Make that two," the Latias continued. That set whatever doubts Shadrach had to rest.

Shadach angrily looked up into the sky. Turning the channel to the gunners' frequency, he demanded, "Where is our support fire?"

"You're too close."

"Fuck that! Broken Arrow!" The Umbreon invoked the command with no little weight; after all, if done improperly, it could kill all of them.

"Guns, guns, guns." And with that note, the helicopters began to empty whatever remaining ammunition they had on the ground below them. Bullets whizzed dangerously close to the struggling Special Forces members, reminding them all that they had little time left.

"Echo One, I can't wait any longer. The helicopter can't take any more- shit!"

Shadrach blinked as the pilot lost all sense of professionalism. He didn't really have to ask why; the warning claxons blaring from the cockpit and that strange, eerie, whining sound coming from the tail rotor both assured him that holding the helicopter still for even a moment more was sure to result in all of their fiery, imminent deaths.

Despite all of this, the Umbreon was utterly surprised when the helicopter began to lift off, leaving behind several figures on the ground beneath them. His vision honed in on a particularly red one.

"Siria! Siria! SIRIA!" her brother bellowed over the roar of the helicopter. "...Siria..."

"The hell?" Shadrach shouted at the pilot. "What the hell are you doing? They're still down there!"

"Better to get some out alive rather than lose all of them," he said composedly, having recovered from his moment.

"Yes, but-"

"Out of the way!" a hoarse voice yelled. Shadrach's eyes nearly popped out of their sockets as he saw Talal run and leap out of the door of the helicopter straight into the middle of the crossfire.

_ Wait, but why didn't Ward restrain him?_ As the thought occurred to the Umbreon, he looked back into the chopper. A Lucario laid motionless on the metal floor as blood pooled around his head. He bowed his head at the steel-type, figuring that a stray bullet had caught him in the ambush.

The Latios sitting next to the dark-type fidgeted a little. "Fuck it," Sirius said. "Fuck it all."

Shadrach owed it only to his trained reflexes when he caught the Latios' leg as the dragon attempted to jump out of the helicopter.

"What? What are you doing? Let me go, you fucking bastard! Let me get to Siria!" the Umbreon heard Sirius yell. "Let me go!"

"Damn you! Don't you realize that you'll get killed?" His efforts were graciously repaid with a terrific kick to his muzzle. He winced in pain, but didn't let go for fear of permanently losing him.

"Who cares? I don't! Let me GO!" the Latios continued to shriek.

For all it was worth, Shadrach was able to hold the struggling Sirius long enough to drag him back into the chopper. He first felt amazed at this Herculean feat, but then realized that the dragon he had been warring with had gone completely limp.

"Fuck!" the Latios screamed out the door at the enemies far below him. Then he rounded on Shadrach. "Why wouldn't you let me go? Why the fuck did you stop me? Why did you stop me from getting... to... Siria... You would understand! Aren't you her boyfriend? Why did you stop me?" He was shouting at the top of his lungs, coming dangerously close to crying

Shadrach looked down, unwilling to face Sirius. "I... I..."

"Well? Let me go!" Shadrach lunged once more as Sirius tried to escape through the door. He tackled the Latios to the floor and pinned him there.

"What would she do if her brother was dead? Because of her? What would she think then?" he hissed into the Latios' ear.

"She'd be mad because I didn't save her in time! Get off me, you bastard! She might be dying right now, for Arceus' sake!"

"No."

"What-"

"You can stay held down like this until we get back to base, and I can have you temporarily imprisoned for misconduct," he stated emotionlessly.

Sirius' body began to heave in sorrow. "What kind of monster are you? Do you care for her at all? I don't believe that-"

"You don't have to believe," he said quietly, feeling quite insulted by the remark. "Yes, I know that I'm in a relationship with her, and that you're her brother, but sometimes... there's no choice. Neither of us can do anything about it. We just have to hope for the best."

At that moment, a voice decided to make its way into his head. _Don't leave me._

As if on cue, his jaws formed the vestiges of, _I promise._

Right then, the Umbreon wanted to stick his head out of the helicopter and throw up. He had promised Siria a single promise, one that he thought that was going to be simple to keep.

And now, as he got up off of a sobbing Sirius, he wondered whose intention was right. Was it right of him to have stopped Sirius from going after her? Was it right of him to sit and watch how things played out? Especially after the promise he made? How much of a hypocrite was he?

Shadrach morosely sat down on a chair, putting his face in his paws as Sirius continued to choke and cry over the Latias' loss.

* * *

Siria first stared in shock as the helicopter departed before her eyes. Her surprise quickly departed as several tracer rounds whizzed by her. As she formed an attempt to hit back at them, she saw a great conflagration appear in the sky above her. The charred, crackling hulk of one of the attack helicopters plummeted down to the earth below, victim of a Tamsus rocket.

"Back down! Retreat!" she yelled, motioning for Nuwai and Jul to go back down the stairs. The two wisely followed her lead and left the enemy fire before it could harm them any further.

Now back in the "comforts" of one of the bedrooms of the complex, Siria looked over her two remaining squadmembers. Her attention flickered over Jul; he was alright, and still ready for combat.

Nuwai was a different issue. "Let me see that arm," Siria said. The blue dragon hesitantly stuck it out, allowing the Latias to see a circular wound on her upper arm. She noted that a small bullet had lodged itself into the tough hide.

The Latias rolled up her sleeves and began to tear apart the fabric surrounding the entry wound. "That has to come out," she said, pulling out her standard-issue knife.

"W-what?" the Gabite asked. She stared at Siria fearfully, wondering if she was actually going to do what she implied.

"Jul, guard the door," the dragon commanded. As the Leafeon went to do so, she said more softly, "Try not to think of the pain."

Nuwai trembled at the thought of a knife slicing through her. Her fear was made all the worse because of the training she had done with Sirius in order to _avoid_ being stabbed in the first place. "But you're injured too!" she said, pointing at the Latias' shoulder in an attempt to forestall the inevitable.

"It's only a graze; don't worry." She smiled slightly as she cast a glance towards the mildly bleeding wound.

_I'll try to help you along mentally. Don't be scared. _Of course, the assumption that she was supposed to be scared in the first place frightened the Gabite even more.

As Siria firmly grasped her arm, Nuwai couldn't help but whimper a bit. "Shhhhh," the Latias said out loud. _Don't think about it. It'll be just a moment._

The Gabite felt a soothing feeling coursing down her arm as the Latias poised the knife carefully above it. _I can get used to this,_ she mused before Siria stuck the knife into her.

Contrary to her expectations, the blade didn't bring an absolutely terrifying scream to her mouth. Rather, it was a warm, dull feeling, throbbing slightly but yielding no major amount of pain.

"Alright, done." Siria held the bloodied piece of lead between her fingers.

Nuwai blinked. "What, already?"

The Latias giggled. "You looked as if you had been smoking something. In other cases, you could have been mistaken for a drunk."

Her face flushed at the remark. "Could not."

"Don't deny it. You enjoyed it." As Nuwai set out to formulate another response, Siria's smile quickly turned into a frown. "We still need to figure out how we're going to get out, though. We're most likely trapped in, especially since we couldn't get down to an alleyway. We have to fight our way ou-"

The door suddenly burst open. Jul, with nearly supernatural reaction time, tackled the figure to the side and held a knife against the perpetrator's throat. Siria and Nuwai nervously looked on, much more uncomfortable at the realization that they hadn't been aware of their surroundings.

"Jul, is that you?" an old voice asked.

The Leafeon breathed in slightly before withdrawing his weapon. He stood up straight at the mention of his name and extended a paw downwards. "Talal, if I knew that was you, I wouldn't have tackled you."

Talal took the extension gratefully and got up wearily. "I know that, Jul. Too bad your skills didn't come to fruition until now..." With a grunt, the Tropius collapsed again, diverting Siria's attention from healing up Nuwai's wound.

"You're hurt! she exclaimed, seeing a flash of red on one of his sides. He merely grunted and turned his body so that she couldn't see his wounds. This action did not pacify the Latias, who hurried to his side.

"They're only minor wounds," he placidly said as she gasped.

"What... what happened?" she asked. Several bullets had pierced the Tropius' side, causing blood to leak out slowly. His leafy wings were also riddled with holes, although those did not bleed at all.

"Nothing."

Siria sighed, beginning to use Wish on the wounds. "How did you even get back here? Unless..."

Talal too sighed, and leaned back in anticipation and exhaustion.

"You went straight through that fire to come back here." Siria stared at the audacious Tropius. "You could have gotten yourself killed! Why didn't you stay in the chopper?"

"Obligations."

"What kind of obligations?"

He turned his head to the two 'mon guarding the door. "Obligations to protect my family."

"Famil-"

"Would you have abandoned your own in a firefight?" Through his red-misted gaze, Talal evaluated the Latias before him with testy eyes. "Especially after knowing them for so long?"

"...no," she said quietly.

Talal didn't seem to notice her reply. "There are ties that bind. Nuwai and Jul aren't just subordinates to me; they are closer than that. It doesn't matter if they're not of my flesh and blood. It doesn't matter that we come from different places and have different histories. All that matters is that we share heart."

"We've come a long way. Fighting, bickering, yelling, dying... but isn't that what family is? As the eldest, I have the responsibility of caring for them. And if I have to fly straight through enemy fire to do it, then I will, by any means possible, do it."

The sickly Tropius coughed a little, painting the ground crimson with blood. "Of course, it would do a bit better if I was dressed up in a suit before I said all of that, but these circumstances don't quite cater to my wishes."

As if to complement his last statement, a door slammed on the floor underneath them, complete with muffled yelling and stamping feet. Talal's eyes darted towards his healer. "Siria, they come. What will you do?"

The Latias, entranced by the grass-type's insight, quickly snapped out of her contemplation. She stood up and looked around her, mind clicking as she began to plan everything out. The room was bare, save for a bed. No windows or skylights existed, and even if they did, Tamsus troops would have undoubtedly been guarding them. "Jul, stand to the right of the door and perform close-range strikes on whoever comes in. Nuwai, stand to the left and take out anything that Jul can't. I'll take the back and hit from afar. Talal, you're still too injured; get under the bed and minimize your profile."

To her surprise, none of them, even Talal, dissented. Jul slid up to the left side of the door, preparing a blade on his arm in preparation for battle. Nuwai took his right, and ejected her rifle magazine in exchange for a new one. The Tropius made his way under the bed as Siria squatted in front of it.

They heard the crash of a door. "They're not in here, either!" a voice cried.

"There's only one more left. We'll get them dead or alive!" All of the Special Forces 'mon tensed at the declaration.

Footsteps, made all the more audible by flimsy wood paneling, approached the door. All of them took a deep breath and prepared for the worst.

CRASH.

As the door swung open, Jul stepped out and stabbed a rather zealous-looking Floatzel in the neck. As the water-type's look of triumph subsided to surprise, the Leafeon quickly withdrew his blade to yield for a blazing Dragon Pulse attack. The beam, catching two other approaching 'mon off-guard, incinerated whatever body parts that happened to be in its way.

A deathly silence fell in the entire building as no more Tamsus soldiers approached the door frame. The Floatzel's body began to soak the floor with blood, adding to the other two's hemorrhages. One of them, possibly a Drapion, clutched at a hand that no longer existed, while another tended to a gaping hole in the middle of his stomach. The mild shuffling of feet around the blind spots of the door told them that the battle was only beginning, though.

"How about some 'nades," a voice whispered. Apparently the 'mon didn't know that his voice carried over to the next room, Siria noticed.

"Yeah." The sounds of two faintly popping metal pins accompanied the affirmation.

All in the room looked to Siria for further commands. She held up a hand to order them to stand down, and concentrated her psychic skills on the door. She saw a faint, yellow barrier begin to form around it, wondering if the Light Screen would finish forming before the Tamsus 'mon chose to frag them.

"Fragout!" one of the 'mon shouted, sticking out a paw to toss a grenade into the door. That cry turned into a hurried yell when it merely _plinked_ against the invisible barrier and dropped to the floor. "What the fu-"

A dull explosion shook the floor as thousands of tiny metal fragments embedded themselves in the two insurgents' bodies. Their groans after the fact indicated that they were not dead yet, just in such agonizing pain that they were no longer threats.

"Siria, any more?" Nuwai asked.

She took a quick scan of the area. "They're waiting," she whispered. "They're on the roof and on the ground floor. They can't afford to send any more , so they're waiting for us."

"So what do we do?"

The Latias sat down on the floor and ran her hand through her hair. The pressing issue was not whether they would be able to get out of the building alive, but whether they would be able to get out of the _city_ alive. The attack helicopters would have undoubtedly already notified FOB Fearow of their failure to extract, at the least... Whether the military would send in an evacuation team or not was more concerning to her.

She looked at the map on her unit's screen, locating the secondary extraction point they had previously agreed upon. If anything, the helicopter would attempt to meet them there. ...but what about the Army's invasion of the city? Would they still attempt it if the kingpin was alive? And if they did, would they traditionally call in air strikes as they usually did? Would they be mistaken for insurgents and become blue-on-blue casualties?

Siria started as she heard the slight patter of footsteps ascending the stairs. She immediately crouched and assumed an attacking position.

"Surrender! We know you're in there!" a voice called to them. "We can wait until you weaken, or you can give yourselves up now. We treat our prisoners of war with great respect."

The Latias couldn't help but snort at the baldfaced lie.

The voice now took a decidedly bolder tone. "If you will not surrender, then we will extract you by force." As if to reinforce his statement, the entire building rattled slightly.

"Siria?" Nuwai nervously asked, looking around the room.

She looked at the Gabite with warm eyes. "Don't worry. We'll be all right."

Obviously Tamsus had already lost all remnants of patience with them. "Five!" the same voice called.

Jul moved slightly to better increase his view of the door.

"Four!"

Nuwai pulled back on her rifle's charging handle to ensure that a round was still firmly placed in the chamber.

"Three!"

Talal groaned from under the bed, sorely wishing that he hadn't dropped his gun when returning back down.

"Two!"

Siria exhaled a bit of blue mist.

"One!"

All of them trained their eyes of the door, certain that they would fight the inevitable rush of Tamsus insurgents to the death.

"Zero!"

BOOM.

The entire left wall exploded in a hailstorm of plaster and concrete, sending Nuwai flying into the opposite wall. A stunned Siria turned her head left to see a Dragonite enter her field of vision and tackle her brutally in the stomach.

She felt pain. Lots of it. As her back met unforgiving wooden planks, the Latias gasped as the yellow dragon slashed at her, leaving several bloody gashes in one of her arms. She let a Dragon Pulse rip straight into his face, causing the dragon to leap backwards off of her.

As Siria straightened up and prepared to fight against the Dragonite, she saw through her peripheral vision a dark blue figure move through the door into the room. That minor detail quickly attracted her attention as said figure picked up Nuwai by the scruff of her neck and held a pistol to her head.

All fighting ceased when the 'mon became aware of this new development. An enraged Jul began to jump when the individual said, "If you come any closer, I'll kill her. I understand that she's a rather valuable 'team player,' as you would call them."

Talal crawled out from underneath the bed, glaring at him. "You dare... you dare take her life?"

The 'mon looked at the Tropius with crimson eyes. "Oh, no, I don't dare to take her life. I _will_ if you don't do as I say." The flames on his back seemed to flicker in tandem with his short, soft laughter.

"Enough banter. All of you. Hands behind your heads. Now."

Jul shouted, "You bastard! I'll kill-"

"Hands. Head. Now." For emphasis, he prodded Nuwai's head with his pistol.

Siria shot glances at both Talal and Jul, who were obviously more connected to Nuwai than she. As even Jul gestured his surrender, Siria stared at the Typhlosion before her with bitter eyes before doing the same.

He chortled. "Someone bring the medicine, please."

The Latias widened her eyes at the mention of medication. As she looked at his white, formal lab coat, her thoughts started to coalesce into...

"I'd rather die before you inject me," she said.

The Typhlosion looked at her oddly. "Strange that you say that. It's not you who's going to die, but someone else. Aren't you selfish."

"Aiden, sir, the medicine." An assistant Houndoom held a syringe in his paw, a small pearl of clear fluid dripping off the needle's end.

"Ah, yes, thank you. Two of you restrain her. I heard that she is rather feisty." Siria felt two pairs of hands grabbing at her arms. She made an effort to resist at first, but then saw the Typhlosion press the gun harder into the Gabite's head. She slumped in surrender, not willing to sacrifice Nuwai's life for her resistance.

The Houndoom stabbed her arm viciously, but she gave no visible complaint to this treatment.

"It hurts, doesn't it?" Aiden asked. "But the benefit of negating your psychic abilities makes the pain worth it, doesn't it? We can't have you go around taking advantage of our lesser members' minds. No, that's just intolerable."

Siria simply glared at him. "You won't get away with this."

He laughed. "Says you and what army? I'm not too certain if the Army is intent on storming the city, like you planned. That's what our mole says, at least."

The Typhlosion then faked surprised. "Oops, mole? I didn't mean to say that. But yes, there's a mole somewhere in the system. I don't know where, and neither do you. Isn't that wonderful? Now, we can't have you struggling in the transports, can we? Knock them out, please."

The Latias saw several 'mon approach Talal and Jul with rifles and club them into unconsciousness. Then she saw black as an equally forceful rifle butt made contact with the back of her head.

* * *

"Here's what our satellite is telling us," the Walrein said, pointing at a map projected on a wall. A weary Umbreon and a moody Latios, among other Special Forces members, stared at the presentation.

"Echo One and three RMs were downed at this location around two hours ago. Stalker Five barely got out intact, carrying out Echo Two and Four." He pointed toward Sirius and Shadrach.

"Apparently Echo One and her RMs were defeated and taken as prisoner or hostage by enemy combatants at this point." The Latios couldn't help but stifle a sob at the remark. "They were then transported to a house near LZ Delta, where they first planned a secondary rendezvous. That is the last we saw of them about twenty minutes ago."

"Extraction of these individuals is vital. They possess much information that Tamsus would have no second thoughts of torturing out of them, including plans regarding the Army's strike on Riyaq that was supposed to occur this morning." The statement sent a wave of murmurs through the spectators as they considered the implications of Siria's capture.

"How crippling would it be if the Army went in right now?" someone asked.

The Walrein blinked. "Now? Thirty-three percent casualties, maybe more."

"What if we went down there with them? All of us, not just an element."

"Well..." he trailed off in the face of grunts and mutters of assent.

"Come on, pops. They're dying down there, and we gotta go."

"I'm pretty sure our RMs wouldn't give a damn whether we were ready or not if their own were duking it out down there."

"We can get Airborne to chip in, too."

"You all realize what you're asking for, right?" The bearded ice-type called for order in the room. "If we attack now, we are going up against a prepared enemy. One that is currently aware of our actions, no less."

"If we do just the extraction, we'll be up against an aware enemy, no less," Shadrach heard himself say. "An extraction now, of all times, won't work because they have the upper hand. We were only able to infiltrate the area last time because the artillery strike distracted them. That won't work again."

The Walrein hummed, considering the Umbreon's proposal. His thoughts were cut, though, by a breathless shout at the entrance of the tent.

"They're going! They're deploying!"

"What?" the ice-type asked with no small amount of surprise.

"The Army's moving in! I don't know what happened, but they're going!" the Growlithe yelped, breathing clouds of condensation.

"But why? And under whose command?"

"General Alem, sir. All they said was that Alem said that someone higher up wanted the field commander to invade, and they're doing it now!"

The Walrein started to object again, but was drowned out by the whoops and cheers of the Special Forces soldiers. Much to his credit, he regained his composure quite quickly due to the realization that there was no way he could say "no."

He slammed his paw on the table. "That's it. We're moving into Riyaq. Prepare to deploy in one hour from now."

* * *

Siria came to, but willingly kept her eyes shut for fear of what she would see before her.

That didn't prevent her from feeling, though. Her arms and legs were shackled to a wall, held firmly in place by solid steel shackles. Her muzzle was also sealed shut with duct tape or something of its ilk. When she tried to psychically unbind her mouth, the Latias was dumbfounded as to why she couldn't even nudge the tape at all.

Then she opened her eyes wide in sudden realization. That... drug that the infernal Typhlosion had been talking about really had wreaked havoc with her psychic abilities, as evidenced by her gradually increasing headache.

Looking left and right, she could barely see that all of her squadmembers were arrested in similar fashion. Nuwai still breathed soundly, unconsciously kicking against her restraints. Talal was watching the Gabite uncomfortably, and Jul was looking at... her.

"So," he whispered, furtively looking in the blackness of the room about to see if anyone was there. "What happened?"

She indignantly stared at him. "Mmmmmmmmph."

"Oh," he said Mareepishly. He tried to struggle against the shackles for what was probably the hundredth time. Siria saw the red areas on the Leafeon's wrists where he had rubbed against his restraints.

He looked back up at her again. "These things won't break for some reason. Guess I'm not as strong as I thought." Jul chuckled weakly.

Both of them remained silent , neither willing to pursue further "conversation." Comforted with nothing but the dark, Siria set out on thinking once again. Their escaping by themselves was impossible; that was clear. She didn't know what time it was, but chances were, the other components of her squad had already reached FOB Fearow. Ward and Sirius and Shadrach.

Sirius and Shadrach. The Latias' heart plummeted when she thought of them. She knew that the Umbreon would be able to cope with her absence well enough; the logic-oriented strategist would only concentrate on what really mattered: getting her back out. But she suppressed a moan when she thought of how her brother would react.

_Hopefully he hasn't been stupid enough to do something ridiculous yet, like hole up in the barracks or shoot himself in the face..._

She choked at the thought of his suicide. He wouldn't do that, would he? There was no way that he'd be able to part with life, no matter how tough the odds were.

A somewhat familiar voice, one that she couldn't quite identify, spoke in her head. _He just might. He thinks you're dead. Imagine what he saw as the helicopter lifted up_.

_ Impossible_, she ruled after some quick deliberation. She knew he cared for her, but to that extent? The extent to which he would use his body as a shield against whatever threatened to kill her?

Maybe not so impossible after all.

The Latias slumped against the tremendous guilt that quickly filled her heart. Her brother was mentally decent (as well as licentiously indecent), but he wasn't exactly the paragon of mental stability, especially when it came to issues about her. _He must be drowning in anguish. He probably feels guilty and hopeless, as if he can't do anything about it._

Which is exactly how she felt as she kicked at her restraints. _No luck there._

What sucked even more was that she couldn't telepathically reach out to him and take even a bit of his pain away. She felt utterly frustrated that one of the few times that she wanted to contact her brother was a time when she could not.

_Aren't you selfish._

Siria stiffened as she finally realized whose voice it was. It was that damn Typhlosion's voice in her head.

_You only want him when you need emotional security. Outside of that, you don't even want to see him, let alone be associated with him. That's rather selfish, don't you think?_

_ Not true_, she argued back.

_So why do you want to contact him? When's the last time you did so when it _wasn't_ necessary?_

_ Well, the last time was... was..._

_ Was when?_

_ ..._

The voice laughed. _Interesting what you can get after a little bit of introspection, isn't it, Siria?_

_ Shut up._

_ Yes, I'll shut up and leave you to your little delusional world._ The voice followed Siria's exact wishes and left.

She felt not grateful that it had left, but rather even more stressed and tired. _I'm not selfish, am I? Am I?_

Siria looked around her, searching for reassurance from her squadmates. She was disappointed that none of them noticed her musings.

A door then opened, letting dim light spill into the room. Aiden, still in formal lab clothing, pushed in a small, metal cart with its lower half veiled by a white sheet. The glowing fire on his back was the only light in the room.

"Well, hello. How are we doing today?" he said with a wide grin. "Or perhaps, this morning. This evening? Maybe tonight? We don't know what time of day it is, do we? So sad."

When none of the captives responded, his face fell. "Oh, nobody to talk to, I see. Well, I'll put your troubles to rest and say that it's been thirty-six hours since you've been put to rest. We drugged all of you before shackling all of you up in here. Wouldn't want runaways, would we?"

Siria felt a dull sense of anger, rekindled by the Typhlosion's inflammatory remarks, begin to pulse within her. Unable to attack him psychically or physically, she remained content with staring at the tan figure as he picked up a thin metal rod off the cart.

He blew a mild flame on it and watched in shock as the metal melted right before his eyes. "Oh, whoops. I guess I picked up the wrong rod." He tossed the little bit of metal remaining in his paw at Siria's feet. "See, when the Halcyian Army came down on us the night we caught you, we had to secure all of our antitank and antiaircraft emplacements so we could kill off your friends. I think it worked pleasantly, seeing that they're residing comfortably all the way up at Base Fearow."

He tutted. "Well, some of them. There were a few nuisances who I had the pleasure of knowing personally. There was an Umbreon fellow, yes, asking for someone named Siria."

The Latias froze and clenched her fists.

Aiden mockingly raised his pitch several octaves. "'Oh Siria, Siria, where art thou, Siria?'" The fire-type then sighed softly. "It was sad, really. That look of absolute terror before I shot him between the eyes. But, you know, that's how life goes, isn't it?"

She began to see a red haze obscure her vision. She thought she had felt it before, but its intensity rose within her. Pure, unadulterated hate ran through her veins.

But what the Typhlosion said next shook her to the core. "But you know what was sadder? The Latios that was with him."

If she had her psychic powers, Siria knew that she could have torn him apart with a single thought.

"He first jumped over the Umbreon protectively. Quite fatherly, in my opinion. Then he turned to attack me. He was powerful, yes. But still, I'm no old 'mon myself, so I beat him up before I shot him. What a sad character. His dying words?"

He melodramatically sighed.

"'Siria... I'm sorry.'"

Those words elicited a whine from the red dragon, but Aiden seemed to be immersed in his narrative. "You'd think that a legendary dragon like him would have something better to do than live vicariously through his sister, don't you? And who's this Siria? They seem really obsessed over her, don't you think, Latias girl?"

The mention of her name seemed to dispel the magic that froze Siria. She began to kick against the shackles in vain.

"Oh, do you happen to know this Siria? Could you tell me who she is?" he asked. He smirked at his joke, realizing that her mouth was duct-taped shut. Of course, he had been the one to do the honors.

Seeing her struggle, Aiden put a paw to his muzzle in mock recognition. "No... could it be... so _you're_ Siria! Oh, what a cruel twist of fate! To imagine that I killed both your boyfriend and your brother! Quite... _fascinating_."

"Oh, yes! Fascinating, intriguing, interesting, appealing, captivating, amusing! Even the thesaurus doesn't even begin to cover how _tantalized_ I am by this development!" He beamed at the Latias, who glared at him with teary eyes.

"You're crying, I see. Perhaps at the realization that I'm standing here gloating instead of actually doing something. Don't fret, don't fret. In normal cases, I would have disposed of you long before because you just might be able to get out of your situation through some long, complex, improbable coincidence. No, I gloat only because I know that no one will save the day. No one will rescue you. No one will put the big bad out right before he shoots the hero. No, there will be none of that."

"But enough of that. I'm tired of talking. Let's get to the real subject of this morning... or afternoon... or night. No, let's settle on afternoon. It makes it easier for me to talk."

The Typhlosion bounded up to the Leafeon shackled to the wall. After a moment of investigation, he exclaimed, "Jul! Good to see you!"

The grass-type simply snarled and spit in his face. Aiden blinked for a moment, a little surprised at his audacity. Then he rewarded Jul with a smart slap across the face.

"Don't treat your benefactor like that, Jul. It's quite impolite, you see."

"Hah... benefactor? You're my benefactor? That's bullshit through and through."

He cocked his head at the prisoner. "Really? Who was it that so graciously took you in after you got lost on a wayward mission some years ago?"

"You ambushed my friends and executed the survivors before my eyes."

"Who was it that nursed you back to health?"

"You burnt all of my fur off my body."

"Who was it that taught you how to be so strong and powerful?"

"You tested your experimental drugs on me without giving a damn about how I felt or how I reacted." Through her tears, Siria narrowed her eyes at Jul's statement.

"Who was it that sent you back out into the world, fully clothed and fed?"

"You told your assistants that I was a 'failure' and that I was to be dumped in the nearest ditch they could find."

"Aren't I a great benefactor?" he asked as he preened himself.

"No."

Aiden hmphed, obviously unsatisfied with his answer. "Well, you're no fun, I see. What about someone else...?"

He took a remote out of his pocket and pointed it at Talal. On command, the shackles unlocked and released the grass-type to the ground with a _thud_.

Aiden strode over to the Tropius and squatted down. "Well, well, aren't you a senior citizen? Shouldn't you be in a retirement home or something?"

"You scum," said Talal.

The Typhlosion blinked in surprise. "And what a mouth! Maybe you don't quite belong in a retirement home." The fire-type kicked him in the jaw, eliciting a grunt of pain.

"Why do you do this? Why? Do you gain some pleasure from torturing others?"

Aiden, drawing back his leg for another kick, suddenly set it down. "Why, you say?" He first snickered, then grew it into a hearty laugh.

"Because I can." He completely lost it, laughing so hard that his cheeks actually turned a slight red. None of the other 'mon in the room partook in his humor.

"Ahaha... hahaha... I'm sorry," he said, wiping his eyes with a paw. "I've always wanted to say that for so long, and the opportunity was right there. Ahem."

"Why, you say? It's as if you imply that this is my job, 'torturing' 'mon and whatnot. It's not part of the job description; rather, it's a little tag that happens to fit a certain sadist part of me. My job is rather different. You see, it's science. Chemistry. Making and breaking bonds, finding the core essence of the universe. I just put it to more... biological uses." His eyes slit over to Jul for a moment.

"Science is progress. Simple as that. Science is what makes this world tick. How did you get here? Not by magic, I assume. How does a helicopter rise and fall? Science. The main rotor spin fast enough to create lift, the tail rotor creates torque that acts against that of the main rotor, and the bird rises. It falls when a rocket collides with its side and causes the rotor to malfunction in many interesting ways. But how the rocket flies? And how it malfunctions? Ah, that is a different matter that I don't have the time to talk about."

"I want to be part of this progress. Science is enthralling. It send chills down my spines. The sense of empowerment it gives its beholders is absolutely astounding. Science is something to be harnessed and used to its fullest extent. In this sense, I'm nothing more than a scientist. That is why I do what I do. Nothing more, nothing less. Those who impede my quest must be ridden of. Which is probably you, judging from how you got in this sorry state."

Siria saw Talal redden in indignation and anger for the first time ever. The Tropius roared, "Progress! Progress at what cost? You're mad! I know not of what you meddle with, but you have unquestionably gone too far!"

"What I meddle with? That's interesting. Ask Siria over there. She knows, right?" Aiden reached into a coat pocket and flashed a small jar of pure, black liquid at her. He smirked knowingly and put it away after seeing her eyes widen in shock.

The Latias' mind reeled at the revelation. So HE was the one responsible for all of this. HE was the one who had mutated that Glaceon. HE was the one who had taken Charlie from them. HE was the one who made Jul into the maniac that he was. And she didn't doubt for a moment that HE was the one who was responsible for all of those mutated fetuses in the lab she saw months earlier.

This realization and aggravation was only magnified by the fact that she was completely powerless to do anything to kill him.

A sudden movement caught her misty gaze. Talal had managed to stand up and throw a Razor Leaf at the Typhlosion. She mentally egged him on, going against her pragmatic feeling that the Tropius was in for some pain.

Aiden eyed the leaves contemptuously, and dismissed them all with a single breath of flame. "Give it up, senior citizen," he commented casually. "You're not what you once were in your prime."

He kicked Talal in the face once more, this time drawing a little bit of blood. "I ought to kill you for your impudence. I thought elders like you knew what respect was."

"Respect? Not for those of your kind."

The fire-type sighed and pulled out a pistol. "Not for my kind? Elaborate." He flicked the laser attachment on, beginning to peruse the grass-type's body with it.

"Your evil. Your delusional state. Your madness."

"Whoa, old-timer. Don't break a hip there. Hmm... our youth certainly have interesting nomenclature, don't they? But," he said with a frown, "Your comment kind of stung me a bit. I'm not that evil. If I was evil then I'd kill... ah. How old is she, that Gabite? Can't be more than sixteen." He trained his gun on Nuwai's head, laser dot dancing on one of her horns.

"Yes, if I was evil, I'd kill her." He thumbed the safety on the pistol. "Yes, if I was evil..."

Talal gasped on the ground. "No, stop! Kill me! Don't kill her! Kill me instead!"

"Oh?" The pistol swung from Nuwai's head to his. "Do you have some interest vested in that Gabite girl?"

"I-" Talal then snapped his jaw shut, fully aware of what Aiden could do with this new information.

He sighed. "Not telling me? Let's ask the source herself." He strode over to Nuwai and put his paw under her chin. "Hello? Good afternoon? Are you awake yet?"

"Nngh..." The dragon opened her eyes slowly. They became quite large as she realized that a hostile-looking Typhlosion was staring straight at her.

"Ah, you're awake now. I have a question for you, Gabite girl. Just a simple one."

"Say nothing," Talal encouraged.

BANG.

"Silence." Aiden stared at the grass-type from over the sights of a steaming pistol. "Now, Gabite, where were we... do you know this old timer?"

She glanced at the Tropius lying on the ground, and decided firmly to stick to his wishes.

"Is that a yes or no?" No reply.

"Huh. So I'll take is as a no." Still no reply.

"That makes things a bit easier for me now," he commented as he walked back to Talal. "So you won't care if I do something to him." No reply.

He grabbed one of the Tropius' wings. "Huh. These look a bit flammable. Don't think you'd mind if I experiment myself. Out of all the grass-types I burned, I've never come across a Tropius before."

Nuwai gasped. "No, wai-"

And without ado, he tugged on the leaf and breathed fire on it. The wing gave new light to the room as it kindled brightly. Talal did not yell in pain, too focused on not presenting humiliating himself in front of Nuwai.

"Talal! Talal!" she screamed, thrashing against her shackles.

Aiden smirked. "I thought you didn't know him. But, oh well. I'm already bored; he doesn't seem to burn faster than others. Let's accelerate the process a bit."

Nuwai had to avert her gaze as a tremendous heat wave coursed through the room. This time, Talal could not stand the pain of being roasted alive; he screamed in pain as flame engulfed every part of his body.

"Hm. So close to dying." The Typhlosion towered over the burning grass-type. Oilly smoke emanated from Talal's body as fire ate at whatever exposed body parts there were. Nuwai bitterly watched on, feeling that she should be crying. Only a hard, heated rage engulfed her soul, though.

"But no, no, that won't do." He took a thin metal rod off the cart that he had brought in. "We'll try something a little more... interesting. Gabite, you better watch. You don't have a connection with him or anything, so it wouldn't hurt if you did."

He breathed fire on the metal, satisfied at the fact that it didn't melt away like the last one. He then crouched down to the Tropius, searching for one of his hooves. The metal glowed a bright cherry-red as Aiden held it carefully.

"I've always wondered. How much does this hurt?" He grinned sadistically.

Nuwai couldn't tear her eyes away from the scene, roaring in anger as the Typhlosion stabbed the area between the flesh and the nail with the hot end of the rod. Talal howled in pain and tried to edge his charred body away from the fire-type. His efforts were in vain, though, as Aiden continued to drive it even deeper into the nail.

He laughed maniacally. "I thought you didn't care for him! Why are you staring?"

As Talal continued to scream, the blue dragon shook with an unnatural rage. All of the times she was angry in the past hardly held a match up to the fury that she felt now. She wanted to take action. She wanted to destroy the Typhlosion in front of her from the inside-out, to send his internal organs tumbling from his gut as he cried and begged for mercy.

But like Siria, she could do nothing of the sort. The only thing she could do was watch.

"Nuwai."

She stared at the Tropius' face as it contorted in pain.

"Never... forget."

Aiden looked up from his work. "Not pained enough, I see. We can fix that." He breathed a little more fire on his rod to heat it up once more.

The Gabite winced as he cried out once more. "Never- forget-" he managed to edge out between his shouts.

"Never forget what?" she asked, vision beginning to water.

"Never... forget..."

"Oh no," the fire-type said, getting up. "You're close to dying, old timer. I can feel it. And there's absolutely nothing I can do about it. I was hoping to use all of my shiny new tools, too." He whipped the cover off of the cart he had brought in to reveal a vast array of spiked objects that Nuwai was certain was to be used for nothing more than pure torture.

"What to do with a nearly-dead 'mon... if I was cruel, I'd let you suffer. But I'm not, so I'll give you a quick, merciful death. Gabite girl, make sure you watch this. It's important."

Nuwai saw the Typhlosion raise his pistol and aim it at Talal's head. A red dot played on the blackened flesh.

"No," she whimpered.

"Yes?" he asked.

"Don't kill him!" she cried, tears beginning to flow down her cheeks.

"Don't _not_ kill him? Alright."

Nuwai gaped as he narrowed his eyes and tightened his grip. She then averted her tearful gaze as he took aim and lodged a bullet straight into the back of the Tropius' head.


	24. Ascendency

So uh, sorry for being out of commission for the past three weeks. Had to put in some more college apps (got deferred from MIT D:) as well as other stressing irl stuff. Hopefully the longer-than-usual chapter will make up for it. There's a little MW2 reference in there somewhere (D.C. Burning, anyone?).

* * *

Chapter 24: Ascendancy

A brass cartridge _pinged_ as it fell to the ground. The Typhlosion stood triumphantly over Talal, smiling as if he had just felled a nefarious dictator or been crowned the savior of his kind. Nuwai kept her head turned and eyes shut. She didn't want to know, to see a scene that would turn her beliefs into reality.

"Huh," she heard Aiden say. "That's strange. He's not dead. But why...?"

Transfixed by this statement, the Gabite opened her eyes. She was then treated to one of the more gory scenes of her life.

Her vision blurred once more as she saw her mentor lying face-down on the ground. The stone wall before him was showered with an incredible amount of blood, intermittent pieces of gray matter and fragments disrupting the otherwise uniform painting. The Tropius' head bled profusely as his fading heartbeat continued to provide blood to fill the cracks in the ashen gray tiles.

"Oops. I guess I was wrong. My bad." Nuwai only raised her head to growl indignantly at the slightly grinning monster. She had heard tales about the Typhlosion: a despicable fire-type who had used prisoners as test subjects for horrific experiments on a whim. Word of mouth at their old camp years back revealed that Jul had been one of those participants, but she knew no more than that. Talal remained austere, and told her nothing of the Leafeon's background.

He had been loyal to the end, putting his life on the line to come return to them in support. The Gabite assumed that he had too protected her from the homicidal tendencies of the fire-type, though she would probably never get the chance to know the exact circumstances.

And what did he earn for this? What was the world's repayment for his determination and kindness?

_A bullet in the head,_ Nuwai grimly surmised. Had she known what Ward said about the Tropius, she would have fully concurred but also defend her mentor to the death.

She already knew that Aiden was an individual far removed from moral character, but this... this was too much. This was impossible for her to realize. She could hardly comprehend the sheer animosity and antisocial will necessary to execute an elderly 'mon in front of a fourteen year old, no less. True, as a soldier for the past several years of her life, she had seen her fair share of deaths. However, none came even a hair close as to what played out before her.

But even as she harbored these thoughts, Nuwai felt no sadness, no depression, no angst from the sight of her dead father figure. She knew these emotions could wait until later, when she was in a more dignified place for mourning.

The Gabite had heard somewhere that revenge was a confession of pain. She might have heard it when she and Talal sat around a fire fueled by the last pieces of wood they carried, or when he had passed by her when she was training in the caverns. She didn't doubt for a moment that the Tropius was the one who had imparted the idea to her, though.

As she saw Aiden bend down to the Tropius' corpse, she reached a bitter conclusion. Perhaps revenge was a confession of pain. Perhaps Talal was spot-on with that remark.

Well, good. She was in a world of pain; that much was certain. And even if she had to go through the Distortion and back, Nuwai intended to show Aiden what agony he had wrought upon her and repay the debt twofold.

No, no, not twofold. Not threefold. Not even tenfold. No amount of suffering could equate what she was going through with what she desired the Typhlosion to feel. Even Arceus himself wouldn't, couldn't exact the amount of justice that she wished placed upon Aiden.

She knew that only she would be the one responsible for bringing him down to his knees and making him beg for mercy which she would never give.

That was the plan, at least. The fruition of it all depended on what she could do then.

"Get away from him!" she screamed at the fire-type. He had his paw in one of his breast pockets, as if scrummaging for some tool. "Or- or I'll kill you!"

He looked up and eyed her, humored by her cry. "Kill me? How? And why would you want to kill me? And, ah, here it is." He pulled out a syringe and a bottle of dark fluid.

The Typlosion stuck the needle into the small jar ceremoniously, sucking all of the liquid up with a single release of the plunger. "If you killed me," he said placidly, "I wouldn't be able to resurrect this Tropius that you obviously don't know."

Nuwai narrowed her eyes at him, not allowing her shocked reaction to grace her mien for even a moment. Underneath, though, her mind was whirling. Was he lying? He _had_ to be lying; the Gabite's beliefs and presumptions were planted so deeply that no amount of convincing could uproot them.

But could Talal really be revived? Living? She tried to grasp the concept of a medicine that would render a dead 'mon living once more, but it eluded her.

"You bastard!" she heard Jul yell. "Lies! All damned lies!"

The Typhlosion looked back sternly. "Don't talk to your benefactor that way. It's rude."

"Benefactor? You really think-"

Aiden sighed. "Do you really want to have this conversation again?"

"You-"

"Good. Neither do I. Now shut up before I have to kill you. I'm in the middle of a very detailed process here, and the last thing I need is for you to distract me further."

Aiden began searching for the Tropius' neck after he finished his retort. Nuwai simply continued to stare at the fire-type, still trying to digest what he had said earlier. Every neuron in her brain screamed that he was hoaxing when he claimed the ability to bring Talal back to life, but a small, hopeful, and foolishly optimistic part of her silently willed her to believe the self-proclaimed "scientist."

The Typhlosion hummed in satisfaction. "Here it is," he said proudly, as if he was a child who had found a lost toy within his room. He eyed his syringe for a moment, and then poised to stick it in the grass-type's neck.

It was to his utmost surprise when the needle suddenly shattered, spraying the ground with glass and black substance. He growled and turned to the only possible source of the disruption: a Latias whose eyes glowed defiantly.

Bright amber met crimson red as she gave the Typhlosion a glare that would cause Arceus to rear back in alarm. "You coward," she said evenly, angry tears streaming down her cheeks. "You bastard. You monster. You sadistic, cruel, twisted, manipulative beast." She stopped her invocations there, unable to find a term that quite matched his feelings toward him, mostly because there _was_ no word in her vocabulary that could illustrate her deep-seated hatred for him.

"Did you kiss your mother with that mouth?"

"My mother is dead," she hissed.

"And so is your boyfriend and brother. Oh dear. What does it feel like to live in a world where nobody loves you?"

He tutted as he saw the trademark blue mist begin to appear around her maw. "Oh, looks like the medicine's wearing off. Don't attack, or I'll break your jaw. All I have to do is stand in the corner where you can't hit me with a Dragon Pulse or any other ludicrous attack you can foment. Those shackles should be able to resist the attacks if my contractor did his calculations right. Test them; if they don't, I know that I have one more 'mon to kill tomorrow."

The Latias knew better not to play into his ploy. If she tried to attack the bonds and failed to break them, they would superheat under the stress of her Dragon Pulse and burn her wrists and ankles. She scowled darkly and tried to focus her mind on deconstructing the Typhlosion's.

Aiden saw her face contort, immediately recognizing what she was trying to do. "Oh, Siria, Siria. You might have had enough power to get the tape off your mouth, but you surely don't have enough to harm me. On that note, you need to be shut up again, as much as I'd love to hear you scream as I torture you."

He approached her with a brand new syringe in hand, swiftly extracting a white medicine out of a bottle and plunging it into her scarred arm.

"Nuwai, don't believe him!" she shouted, aware that she only had seconds' worth of freedom left before she was once again incapacitated. "He wants to turn Talal into that Skarmory! He want to turn him into a Shadow Po-"

"Don't tell her too much now." Her voice was cut off as the Typhlosion caught her muzzle and wrapped several extra layers of duct tape of it for good measure.

As he looked back at the Tropius, his face screwed up into a frown. "Siria, do you realize what you just did? You destroyed my last good sample. I was saving that, you know. You destroyed an entire month's worth of research. Do you know how _long_ it took to procure that sample?"

The slight gleam of triumph in her eyes didn't quite escape the fire-type. "That's why I made a few extras," he continued, outstretching his paw to reveal two other bottles of the formula. "I should have made an third one for that Gabite girl, though. I'm sure she'd love to enjoy the effects of Shadow along with you."

Nuwai gave no reaction to the threat, having had something sparked within her by the Latias' previous comment. Talal? A Shadow Pokemon? What _was_ a Shadow Pokemon?

She imagined the steel-type's beak twisted into a horrible, maniacal smile, and shuddered at the thought. It wasn't hard for her to remember the mutilated, discolored, disgusting figure she had seen many nights prior.

So there was a cost of resurrection. The Gabite could have guessed that there were gross repercussions for defying the laws of nature, but seeing the "saved" 'mon rise in a ghastly, zombie-like manner was hardly near the top of her list of consequences.

She growled slightly as Aiden bent down to the Tropius corpse with a fresh syringe in hand. She had hoped previously that Talal could be brought back to life, yes, but not in the manner that Siria suggested it!

It angered her that the Typhlosion could have such a immense disregard for life. It angered her that he could kill so easily. It angered her that he would go as far as to use the _dead_ for his sadistic medical experiments.

And with this anger, the raw revenge she craved tore a hole in her stoic expression and fully expressed itself. She snarled and beat against her restraints as the fire-type poised once more to inject the Tropius. He had a knowing smile plastered on his face, derived from the knowledge that nothing would stop him.

Nuwai's mind whirled. Talal was dead. She was surprised at not the fact itself, but the realization that she had come to terms with it so quickly. Or that may have been the revenge speaking. She didn't quite know.

What she _did_ know was that the sadistic scientist before her was about to desecrate the remnants of her mentor... _no, not mentor_. _Ally. Comrade. Friend. Father. Loved one. _He was about to commit a sacrilegious act, something that should never happen in this world.

And she was going to do something about it, no matter if restraints held her back or not.

Something clicked within the Gabite's mind at that moment. It was not rage, not sorrow, not even anger. As she began to glow a brilliant white, she realized that the only thing that fueled her now was raw determination, a desire to set things right.

Her bright claws were first, elongating outwards from the pale, minor ones that they previously were. Spikes jutted outwards on her arms and tore the fabric of her fatigues. The fins on her forearms grew down and outwards, turning into appendages more worthy of flight. She squirmed slightly as her back fin grew and flattened against the wall.

The Gabite's angular nose seemed to grow outwards, a yellow cross spreading on its tip. She narrowed her eyes as her jawline widened to be more in form with that of her evolution. The stubby, pointed tail she had always been used to grew outwards and pleated into a pair of fins at the end.

As Nuwai looked down at herself, she noted that she had grown a foot or so; her fatigues had ripped at multiple seams, not able to contain her sudden growth. Modesty wasn't at the forefront of her concerns, though.

On the other hand, killing the Typhlosion who was looking at her oddly was priority one.

The Garchomp growled fiercely. She looked at the shackles with a pained expression before flicking her tail upwards at them. The long blue length turned a hard, steel gray as it beat mercilessly upon them.

"Evolution under stress. That's interesting," Aiden said as he set the needle down. "There've only been a few documented cases of this, and I've been witness to one this very afternoon! I'm quite lucky! Even more so, because I get to experiment with you after..."

He widened his eyes at the multiple cracking sounds that echoed throughout the entire room.

"... the fact?" For the first time any of the 'mon had seen him, Aiden looked truly perplexed.

No one was able to catch the Typhlosion's next expression as Nuwai tackled him straight through the wall.

* * *

"Sirius! Mount up!" Amidst the whine of helicopter rotors and roars of tank engines, the Latios could hear the Ampharos' feminine voice call him. In his crazed dash to get to the jeep, he ran straight into the path of another one, eliciting a fair amount of cursing and "Fuck you's." He remained unabashed of all of the commotion, though, and secured the last seat in the vehicle with haste.

As the jeep rolled out of Base Fearow's gates, Sirius took a moment to survey the other 'mon sitting inside. Shadrach was driving, Din sat in the front, an unknown Jolteon manned the gun turret, and Levina sat besides him. Unsurprised by the arrangement, he quickly retreated to his quiet thoughts and worries.

"Hey, Levina?" the Jolteon asked.

She looked up at him. "Jackson?"

"What's up with these guns? They're rotary."

She sighed. "And?"

"Why'd you guys install rotary guns?"

"Because they made us." She turned her head sideways, trying to communicate that she was already done with the conversation.

However, Jackson was just warming up his tirade. "Rotary guns don't work. These things are built into the jeep, which means when our ride gets totaled, we can't lug it out to use. If we had our regular gun, then-"

"Jackson?"

"Yes?"

"Shut up."

He gave her a dirty look, but nothing more.

"Why oh _why_ couldn't we have had someone else from our squad be our gunner?" she said, shooting the electric-type a scathing glare of her own. The two didn't exactly have a glowing history. "I mean, why isn't Siria with us? I'd prefer her company instead of jackass' here."

The jeep jerked as Shadrach temporarily lost his composure. Din looked downward, having already heard the information from the survivors of the ambush. No one said anything, allowing the dull roar of moving machinery to fill the atmosphere.

The silence was then pierced by soft sobbing. Sirius curled up in his seat, putting his claws to his face as he wept gently.

Levina narrowed her eyes at this; judging from the others' reactions, the reason was more than evident, but she had to hear it to believe it. The Ampharos leaned forward in her seat. "Shadrach, did she..."

He nodded glumly.

"I..." She was absolutely floored. The Latias was one of the best at close-quarters combat. How could she get left behind?

"Ambush!" Sirius choked, as if understanding her implicit question. "We got caught in crossfire, and Siria was helping a casualty up, and then the pilot said something about not taking any more fire, and then- then-"

"Sirius."

"And then we took off!"

"Sirius."

"And I couldn't do an Arceus-damn thing about it!"

"Sirius."

"Hell, she's probably dead by-"

"SIRIUS!"

"WHAT?" he roared in response, glaring at the Ampharos. "Do you want to add a snarky-ass comment or something? 'Cause you can go right ahead! I don't give a fuck! Nothing matters anymore!" His voice subsided to a mumble as he looked away and hung his head in shame.

"I'm the worst brother she could get. I couldn't even save her when I could've."

Levina, stunned with the normally easy-going Latios' outburst, for once had no preprogrammed counter. "Sirius..."

"Get it out," he spat. "I know you want to insult or yell at me or something, so just do it now so I don't have to hear it the second before I get killed."

"I wasn't going to do that!" she defended, blood rushing to her face in anger.

"Isn't that what you do all of the other times? Just run over whoever's grieving and make their life a living hell?"

She didn't know whether to be angry or disappointed at his accusation. All she knew was that the chances that he was right were high. "It's just..." The Ampharos gritted her teeth, knowing exactly how uncharacteristic the words she were going to say were. "I'm sorry."

"Say what?" said the Jolteon above. "Levina's actually sorry for something?" He then shouted as the Ampharos stomped on his foot. "Fucking shit..."

"But Sirius," she said as if nothing had occurred. "Siria could still be alive. She's resourceful; there's no way she couldn't get out of the mess."

"That's what you said at first, and look what happened."

"I- wait..." What the Latios implied came fast on the heels of her confusion.

"I don't want to kill my sister!" he cried, putting his face in his claws. "I don't want to see her that way! I don't..." He began to sob again.

"But-"

"They'll do to her what they did to Charlie! They'll make her a beast and we'll have to find a way to kill her!"

She shifted in her seat to get a better look at him. "They're not going to do that. She'd never let them do it in the first place."

"You say that, but how do you know it's true?" Seizing upon the Ampharos' silence, Sirius sobbed, "See? You don't. She isn't just dead. She's worse than dead. She's gone, and it's all my fault."

"She's not dead," Levina pressed.

He didn't appear to hear her. "It's my fault, and I'm paying in spades. I had the chance, but I didn't take it. I could have saved her, but I couldn't! I'm useless!"

Levina had heard enough. He wasn't listening to words, so there was only one option left.

"Sirius. Look at me."

The Latios hardly moved.

"Sirius."

He seemed to recline back in his seat, if only to sigh in exasperation.

_Enough is enough._ She leaned forward and clapped her hands on the dragon's face, forcing him to turn towards her. "Si- ri- us. Look at me."

He didn't just look at her; he widened his eyes at the sudden contact, absolutely dumbfounded that Levina possessed the ability to touch him for any longer than it took to hit him.

"Listen. It's not your fault. It's a thing that you couldn't have prevented, yeah, but there's still hope, a chance to get it all back. You can't sit around all day and mope about her. She's probably still alive - which is more than what could be said for my loss," she admitted, looking downwards for a moment. Levina returned to staring at the Latios not a second later.

"Yeah, you probably think I'm a callous bitch for saying all of this, being all insensitive and stuff, and you know, you're probably right. I know it hurts you on a level I couldn't possibly understand (and believe me, I'm hurting too), since you've been connected with her since birth, but we're not even a half-hour away from a major battle, one where you probably intend to save your sister. Would I be right about that?"

He nodded once in confirmation.

"Right. We - yes, we, don't give that look; I'm coming even if I have to handcuff myself to you - are going on a mission that probably requires us to bash in the heads of lots of 'mon, and you're going to do nothing but sob? You're going to get yourself killed out there if that's all your going to do! Your mind can't be on both action and worrying; it's one or the other!"

She huffed and focused her gaze on the dragon's scarlet eyes. "Where's the Sirius I used to know? The one who always cracked jokes? The one who never complained about being my punching bag? The one who couldn't say two words about a girl before going into some perverted nosedive? The one who would do whatever it took to get his sister back? Where is he, Latios? Where is the Sirius that I want to see? The Sirius that Siria wants to see?"

The mention of the Latias' name drew an audible gasp from him. "That's right. What is Siria going to think when she sees you like this?" Levina didn't have too much of an idea of how his sister would actually react, but it was more than evident that the Latios before her did.

"She'd... she'd kill me. That's what she'd do."

"Do you feel like dying tonight?"

For the first time that night, Sirius felt the faint vestiges of a smirk rise to his lips. "No. No, I don't, actually."

"So I don't have to handcuff myself to you?"

"No."

A still silence filled the interior of the jeep as the others either didn't wish to be killed (Shadrach and Din) or simply weren't paying attention (Jackson). Finally, Sirius spoke again.

"Well, err... you're a bit close for comfort, aren't you?"

Levina felt the warmth of his breath wash over her face before she fully realized what he meant. In all of that time she talked to him, she had leaned forward until her face was hardly inches from his!

She stammered as she released him and put as much distance between her and the Latios as she could. "I- well-"

Sirius' low snickering attracted the Ampharos' glare. "Well, I'm sor-_ry_ for helping you!" She hmphed and crossed her arms, imagining a slight warmness rising to her cheeks. "It's not as if I deal with 'mon crying and sniveling every single day, not to mention-"

"And I'm thankful," the Latios said, bringing her bluster to a complete halt. "Just like old times, huh? Like all the way back at the old base..."

"W-what?" She looked back at him before turning away. She wasn't just imagining the heat; she was more than certain that a full-on blush raged on her features, and the last thing she needed was for Sirius, of all 'mon, to get some kicks out of it.

_And possibly something else,_ the sarcastic part of her snarked before she summarily strangled it.

Not content with backing down, she continued, "You think you can just cut me off-"

"Yes." Sirius smiled as she spluttered again. "We're not here to argue, are we? We're here to kick some ass."

"R-right." Seeing him beginning to turn towards her, Levina occupied herself with staring at a star in the pitch-black sky.

* * *

Siria gaped unashamedly at the Garchomp-sized hole in the wall where both Nuwai and Aiden disappeared. As she tried to crane her head to see into it, she saw a faded, golden yellow light spill outwards onto the rubble. The sunlight of a late afternoon?

Her heart sunk at the sight. Perhaps the Typhlosion was right. Perhaps he had actually killed those she had loved the most; perhaps he had drugged them into such a deep stupor...

The Latias immediately cast her doubts aside as she saw a lamp fly out of the hole and shatter beside her. _Or perhaps I'm being too pessimistic_, she thought as a few shards of glass drew blood from her face. Siria couldn't help but grin as she heard shouts and roars coming from the next room, absolutely amused at the twisted state of affairs they had gotten into. The situation itself seemed to defy reality.

"Go to hell!" a most unfeminine voice roared. Siria had to think for a second before realizing that it was Nuwai's. "I'll rip your guts out for what you did for Talal!"

"Now, now, let's be reasonable here," a more plaintive Aiden pleaded. Well, seemed to plead before he emerged from the dust cloud. She could see a great, mad grin plastered on his face.

A blue body gave pursuit so fast that Siria couldn't see anything more than a blur. The Typhlosion jumped nimbly out of the way hardly seconds before Nuwai slashed the wall behind him, raking a deep score in the stone.

"I was only trying to do what was best, Nuwai. Didn't you want to see Talal alive again?" He breathed a powerful stream of flame, dodging once more as Nuwai stubbornly charged through the Flamethrower.

She roared and whipped her head at the Typhlosion beside her. "Alive? Alive? You call what you did to that Skarmory ALIVE?"

"Why, yes," he said, disappearing in a blur only to reappear in the Garchomp's face. He thrust his arm forward with an icy sphere in hand.

Nuwai ate the Hidden Power attack, exchanging her pain for a chance to rent Aiden at the jugular. As he leaned back, he blinked slightly as a razor-sharp claw grazed his neck.

"Hahaha..." The Typhlosion wiped his neck with a paw, ignoring the fact that a vicious dragon was honing in on him. He sidestepped the Garchomp's Outrage attack and watched as she ripped the door of the room to shreds. Murmurs of shock from the next room accompanied the the sound of several moving chairs.

"Do you feel it, Nuwai? The rage that flows throughout you? The rage that consumes you?" He caught one of her arms as she moved to slash at his stomach, leveraging her weight so that he could aim a powerful kick at her stomach. "I haven't had a battle this good in years! You only get good battles like this when you royally piss someone off! Now bring it!"

"... bring it?" she asked in a low tone. She then raised her head rapidly, evoking a nasty crunching sound as it collided with the Typhlosion's jaw. As Aiden temporarily recoiled, she jumped backwards, glowing a light blue.

"I'll bring it." She then lunged forward in a brutal Outrage attack, leaving embers trailing in her wake. Her fins shone white temporarily as they cut across the shackles restraining both Siria and Jul. They grunted as they fell to the ground.

Aiden tried to halt the Garchomp's rampage with a Protect at first. However, even the shield that had withstood the hellfire of an orbital weapon buckled and collapsed under the furious dragon's rage. As he turned to dodge her, her claws caught his lab coat, completely tearing it off his body.

As Nuwai flew above him, he charged a Hidden Power Ice and shot it at her face. The angry dragon went tumbling, hitting the ground hard and rolling straight through another wall. This time, no light spilled out of the crevice. As Siria slowly collected herself, she felt a cool breeze flow past her face. Looking up, she saw neither sun nor blue sky, but instead the friendly twinkling of stars against a dark backdrop.

Determination and energy renewed, she got up slowly, making sure not to do anything that would bring rather ignominious downfall. It would be humiliating to not have defeated her greatest nemesis because of something as minor as a stretched muscle.

As Nuwai continued to rampage and war against the Typhlosion, she crept over to Jul. "We have to catch him off guard so Nuwai gets a clean shot," she said to him, having already discarded the tape from her muzzle. He nodded in agreement, and grimaced as Aiden dealt a Flamethrower directly to the Garchomp's back.

Aiden chuckled as he dodged another frenzied slash. "Keep that up, and soon you won't have enough HP to keep on fighting. Your attack's already halved! Just give up before I actually do something."

She flailed at the fire-type, who quickly dodged and returned several Hidden Powers to her backside. The agony of frostbite tearing at her burns was incredible, and actually caused the Garchomp to halt in her rampage for an instant to rear back in pain.

"She's lost it. Everything that Sirius taught her has gone out the window..." Jul sighed. "Outrage is confusing her, so she can't think straight at all."

"We need to get her back, but how?" Siria stared at the fight, seeing the Typhlosion knee her straight in the face. Her blood boiled at his treatment of Nuwai, but she knew better than to needlessly charge into the fight in her debilitated state. "I lost my psychic abilities, and Talal is..." A single tear formed at the corner of her eye as the moments replayed before her.

Jul sat and observed her attack patterns. As Siria said, she seemed to rush heedlessly, trying to go for whatever opportunities she could. He shook his head at this; there was no pattern, no discernible logic to plan around!

In his anger, he kicked one of the myriad stones scattered about the ground, watching it bounce into one of the rooms Nuwai was kind enough to unveil. He tried to look inside, but only managed to sneak a glimpse before a blue beam threatened to spear through his head. He glanced back to see the Garchomp begin to shoot off streams of Dragonbreath, each one capable of dealing a searing third-degree burn.

"Siria," he said hurriedly to the Latias next to him. "Our stuff's in the next room."

She frowned.

"The box that Sirius gave her," Jul said to her implicit questioning. "If it has Persim Berries then we can snap her out of confusion."

The dragon blinked. "Right, but how do we get her to eat one? She's not exactly relaxed."

He thought for a moment before giving the best answer he could think of "If my pistol's in there, then we can distract them. Yeah, I know it isn't exactly the best plan, but what alternative do we have? Unless you can think of a way to kill him and get her sane at the same time."

The Leafeon saw her shake her head once and bite her lip. "Good luck."

"Luck," Jul heard his voice echo. "Haven't I had enough of that."

He laid himself flat on the ground and cautiously edged forward, keeping his eyes trained on the Garchomp as he did so. The grass-type winced every single time she and Aiden exchanged blows, but encouraged himself to keep going forward for her sake.

Now near the giant hole that marked the entrance, he slowly got up and stepped over the foot-high remnant of the wall. He froze and looked straight up as his foot cracked a shard of glass, but the sound attracted none of the attention he anticipated. Relieved at this, Jul turned towards the table before him.

Their gear laid in a heap the middle of the table, surrounded by half-filled mugs of tea and bread. Undeterred, he gingerly began to paw through the pile in hopes of recovering the berry case.

Jul paused slightly as he picked up Talal's worn map case, humored at how outdated it seemed compared to the other electronics on the table. _The 'mon's pretty old, isn't he...?_

The Leafeon caught himself. Was. Talal _was_ old, not _is_. Embittered by the realization, he set the antique aside and started searching for Nuwai's pack.

He recognized his pistol and strap, quickly reacquainting it with his leg. As Jul buckled it on, the walls shook slightly. An intense heat flowed in, reminding him that he was on a schedule.

He placed Siria's gear on one of the chairs, surprised at its sheer weight. His musings on how much material she brought into the field then ground to a halt as he saw Nuwai's khaki pack, recognizing the tiny Garchomp figure strapped on one of the zippers. He forced a sick grin at it, shaking his head as he took hold of it and opened the bag.

Jul began to rifle through the items: a worn journal, a pair of standard-issue NVGs, a small perfectly hewn stone cube...

At last he found the box. He worked the steel latch and opened it, finding the usual assortment of berries the late Sirius had packed into the wooden compartments. He grabbed two pawfuls of the colorful pink berries and escaped from the room.

"Siria, here," he said quietly, shoving some of the Persim Berries into her hand.

Jul looked quizzically at her as she popped one into her mouth. "Headache," she said Mareepishly.

"Get this!" a voice rang out. Jul nearly went blind as a brilliant white light filled the room. Aiden sent an immense pillar of flame blazing before Nuwai, sending her hurtling back into the wall besides Siria. He was frankly surprised that she survived; he had seen him incinerate an unwitting lab technician with Blast Burn the last time he was in captivity.

"Now, dammit!" Siria shouted at him, casting the approaching Typhlosion only a passing glance before shoving a berry down Nuwai's mouth. Jul quickly took his pistol from its holster and began to fire at the fire-type. He didn't expect the rounds to actually kill him, but hopefully they would divert him long enough for Siria to get the Garchomp moving again.

Aiden sighed and Protected, watching the energy of the bullets create ripples on the surface of the shield. "Jul, why are you shooting at me?" the Typhlosion asked. He wore the tatters of a t-shirt, for both his lab coat and windbreaker had been mercilessly torn to shreds by Nuwai's attacks.

"Because you deserve to be sent to hell."

"Is that so?" The fire-type squatted down before Jul as the Leafeon tossed the pistol away and brandished his sharp tail. "Why do I deserve to be sent to hell? Why not you, especially after all of the 'mon you killed in past years?"

"You know damn well why I did what I did."

Aiden rolled his eyes. "Oh, please. Your little raiding party wrecked multimillion dollar equipment and murdered some very accomplished technicians at least three times in recent memory. All I ever did was kill 'mon who deserve to be killed."

Jul slashed at his neck with a Leaf Blade, but the Typhlosion merely pulled back and blew flame on him. As the Leafeon scrambled to extinguish the fire on his tail, Aiden stood up and kicked him in the stomach.

"You pathetic piece of trash." He pulled out his own pistol, training the laser dot on Jul's chest. "I can't believe this is what I fathered. A miserable pile of crap that can't even take a single fire attack. Really, now. Maybe you weren't the best candidate for the Shadow prototype after all." Aiden flipped the safety.

"Get away from him," Jul heard someone growl. Nuwai staggered up and bared an incredible display of teeth at him. "Get away, or I will tear you in two."

He looked impressed. "You really got up after a Blast Burn? Interesting. Oh, but it looks like you cheated." He gave Siria a derisive look.

"But you know what? I don't really care. All three of you can challenge me at once, and I'll beat you all. Why? Because I know I'm better than you."

He smirked at the three. "Let's go."

The Latias' mouth charged with water as she returned a scathing glare. "Let's."

Aiden let hellfire flow forth as Siria unleashed a Surf attack. The elements collided in the middle of the room, releasing billows of thick steam. Nuwai surged through the cloud with a Dragon Rush, barely deflected by a hastily erected Protect. Aiden neglected his backside in the defense, and Jul slashed at him with a Leaf Blade, drawing a stream of blood. Roaring, the Typhlosion punched the ground, letting jets of flame erupt upwards from the tiles. Siria dodged a column of fire, letting another Surf attack rip at the center of attention. As water met fire once more, Nuwai took an alternative route, moving in to nail him with a Dragon Claw. Aiden stepped back and amplified the fire on his back, scorching an attacking Jul while parrying against the Garchomp.

"Is this all you got?" C'mon!" He leaped forward to attack Siria, who was in the middle of preparing another Surf. His paw glowed a malign black as he swiped at the Latias' face, drawing blood and a grunt from her. Face stinging from the super-effective attack, Siria sent a Thunderbolt coursing from her claws into the tan body before her. Aiden froze at the feeling of thousands of volts frying his nerves before being kicked in the chest by the Latias before him. He stumbled backwards, regaining his composure just in time for Nuwai to catch him in the face with an Iron Tail. Temporarily blinded by the force of the attack, he charge Hidden Powers in both hands and threw them in the general direction of the Garchomp, laughing madly through the blood streaming down his face as he heard a roar of pain.

His levity was cut short when Jul struck with an Aerial Ace. The grass-type didn't miss a beat, perfectly accurate attack laying a wound on the Typhlosion's chest. He nimbly jumped away as a angry spurt of Flamethrower issued forth from the fire-type, only to be doused with Siria's Surf again. The Latias then shot a Dragon Pulse at Aiden, shouting in triumph as the beam made contact with his shoulder and incinerated a chunk of it. As he reared in pain, Nuwai, previously loitering near the ceiling of the room, jolted forth and laid an devastating Earthquake before him, causing the ground beneath all of them to tremor. The Typhlosion, having been at the epicenter of the attack, could not take any more of the onslaught, and tumbled backwards onto the ground.

Nuwai swooped down before him, folding her fins in as she glared at the fire-type writhing on the ground. "You will pay for what you did to Talal," she said menacingly, exhaling short bursts of blue vapor.

"Will I?" the Typhlosion asked in a jovial voice. He shot a Hidden Power at the Garchomp, stunning her long enough so he could stand on his own legs again.

"I'm not going to pay. You're going to pay. You're going to pay for what you did to me. It doesn't look like it, but," he said as he gestured at the wounds marring his body, "It hurts. It hurts like hell, you see. And now, I'm going to get serious."

He staggered backwards, retreating back to the hole that let moonlight filter in. He folded his arms and stared crazily at the three 'mon as he began to glow softly. "AhahahAHAHAHAHA! You haven't seen my true self, have you? No, you haven't! No one has! And now, you're going to see it right before you die! The form that HE himself bestowed upon-"

His rant was cut short when a brilliant green laser suddenly descended from the heavens, turning the very ground he stood on into a massive shower of sparks and fire. Siria could hear the dull beats of a helicopter far above, mentally cheering on whoever manned the powerful minigun above. _Every fifth round is a tracer_, the analytical part of her chimed.

Well, if the stream of bullets consistently ran green, the gun must be spitting out a hell of a lot of bullets.

Her joy quickly turned into fear as the rounds began to target their location, ripping straight through a wall in their pursuit.

"Siria, what the hell?" Jul shouted as he rolled to the left. "Why are they shooting at us?"

Grimacing, she moved ahead of the stream and charged an Energy Ball in her hands. "Green flare!" she said as she shot the attack up into the air. It exploded into a small, emerald fireball, telling whatever crew there was in the gunship that there were friendly personnel down below.

As soon as the bullets stopped raining down, she looked at the area that they were once fighting in. There were no more walls and certainly no more structure. Nuwai and Jul too looked around themselves, searching for something else: a Typhlosion.

"Where is he?" Nuwai growled, golden eyes gleaming with anger. "Where?"

Siria stared at the crater where the fire-type once stood. There was no way he could have survived the attack, none at all. "I think he's dead."

"Dead? He's dead?" the Garchomp said, outraged. "But I wanted to... kill... him..." She faltered as she realized the ruthlessness of what she was about to say. Aiden certainly deserved death for what he had done to countless individuals, but it didn't make her feel any better to stoop down to his level.

"Shouldn't we be more concerned about getting out right now?" Jul said, shoving another magazine into his pistol. He looked upwards as the loud drone of helicopters began to fill the sky.

"No." Nuwai scanned the floor, looking for a body. She saw it in the corner, somehow still intact despite all of the fighting they had done. She walked to it and sat down beside it. As she bowed her head, she said, "I'm not leaving. Not without Talal." Her voice nearly cracked at the last two words, causing Siria and Jul to exchange glances.

"But Nuwai, carrying him out will only make us unable to fight back," Jul said. He wanted to preserve the body as well, but not to the point of self-destruction. When she failed to move, he continued, "Troops will be coming. They'll want to know what happened here."

"I don't care."

Jul was about to reply again when Siria put a hand on his shoulder. "We'll defend this position," she said simply. "To me, it looks like the Army's attacking tonight."

"But-"

"We can hold for about an hour or so while they make their way through. And besides," she said, casting a wary glance at the Garchomp, "Are you really going to try arguing with a powerful dragon who's bent on killing anything that threatens Talal's body?"

He frowned. "Well, if you put it that way..."

"It's decided, then. We'll hold the position. Now, you said that our supplies were in the other room. How much of it do you think still exists after the helicopter strike?"

* * *

Sirius flanked to the left of a tank, dearly hoping that no Tamsus insurgent would come and activate the reactive armor that plated the steel behemoth's sides. The last thing he needed to be was plastered all over a city wall while trying to get to Siria.

Shadrach and the others took similar avenues down the dusty, pockmarked street, their jeep having been destroyed hardly minutes upon entry into the city. The enemy was a well-entrenched one, and had gotten the jump on them after Jackson neutralized three previous threats. The technologically superior Halcyian Defense apparently had much difficulty in penetrating against the covertly placed antitank and sniper units spread throughout the buildings.

"AT!"

A contrail trailed behind the rocket that thankfully only glanced on the tank's sloped armor and flew off to Arceus knew where. Sirius took the attack as a hint to get out of the tank's perimeter before he got blown to bits.

As he tried to get ahead of the armor, his vision blurred slightly as the tank boomed and lodged a shell into the side of a house where the gunner had just been. The roar of the walls caving in under the sabot round's incredible force sounded tiny compared to the thunder of several attack helicopters hovering overhead. Reinforced with specially designed armor against elemental attacks, they gave little attention to the Thunderbolts and Flamethrowers rising up from the ground below, instead deciding to punish those responsible for the attacks.

Sirius kept his head down low and focused on the Umbreon before him, knowing better than to loiter and casually watch war happen. "Shadrach, sitrep," he said, eyes darting to see if anything targeted them.

"Ahhh, nothing but general info right now. We're supposed to support this mech platoon. Other SF detachments are- tango! On the roof!" Sirius looked up at his ten o'clock, where a Buizel who had tried to take a shot reeled backwards from the force of a bullet in his chest.

The five of them quickly joined the bustle of the other 'mon as they collectively surged forth, clearing and securing a pathway for the APCs and armored vehicles to move in safely.

"Gunner at the window!" a thin, nasally voice shouted. A wall of bullets assailed the hole and knocked the rocket-wielding insurgent down. In his death throes, the 'mon pulled the trigger on the RPG and sent it flying down at an awkward angle. The rocket screamed down and exploded on the pavement, showering the unfortunate Raichu standing there with shrapnel before blowing her back into a wall.

Attention immediately attracted by her cry, Sirius ran across the road and crouched down to her with medic bag in hand. As he began to look the Raichu over, he heard Shadrach dimly yell, "Goddammit, Sirius, move it! Move it!"

The Latios turned away, instead trying to see where the soldier was wounded. It looked like the shrapnel caught her side pretty badly...

"Sn... sni..." she breathed, staring at the building where the gunner had once been.

Sirius shushed her, but she wouldn't listen. "Snip..."

"What?" he first asked, perplexed by the monosyllabic phrase. Then what she implied quickly dawned upon him. "Oh fu-"

CRACK.

The Latios tumbled backwards as something powerful struck his helmet. Vision having turned black, he could only hear the faint yells of, "Counterfire, counterfire!" and the din of automatic rifles discharging through the high-pitched whine of tinnitus in his ears. As he laid on the ground waiting for his senses to recover, something grabbed him by the scruff of his jacket and pulled him out of the street.

"What part of 'sniper' don't you get?" Levina said angrily, nodding towards a concerned-looking Shadrach.

"Perhaps the 'per' part," he said with a lopsided grin.

She only rolled her eyes as she dragged him up to his feet, and was surprised when the Latios tackled her down into a passageway between a pair of storefronts.

"What the hell, Sirius! Why-"

"What part of 'mortar' don't you get?" he yelled over the roar of quickly fading machine gun fire. Soldiers began to vacate the street as telltale whines began to fill the air. One of the wiser tank drivers closed the cupola hatch on the tank as it continued to advance, albeit much more slowly.

Levina tried to shove the dragon off of her back. "Well, let me get up at leas-"

BOOM.

A shell exploded right where the Ampharos had previously been standing, creating a smoky crater and decimating any chance of getting Sirius to relent. She remained prone, not willing to waste any more of her energy fighting the protective dragon.

The lethal downpour began, with some rounds glancing the surface of the streets and others driving straight into the roofs of houses. "Levina, how many 'mon live here?" the Latios asked nervously.

"I don't know, but I hope they evacuated in time. I hope..." She watched as one shell tore into a two-story building. It blew out the windows, sending shards of glass flying downwards into the rubble of the street.

The two of them remained in silence as the mortar rounds continued to fall, bringing all fighting in their area to a screeching halt. Sirius formed a Protect shield around the two of them, wondering if it could resist the several pounds of explosive a shell usually brought down.

"Looks like the shelling's winding down," Levina said. The whistling faded away as the last mortar shook the ground with a decent explosion.

"Yeah." Sirius watched as a couple curious soldiers crept out into the crater-ridden street, only to quickly retreat when another shell exploded before them.

"Incoming!" a voice among the hiding Halycian troops shouted. The familiar whistling of the mortars quickly followed, showering them with explosions once more.

Sirius grunted as he flattened himself against the wall. "Arceus-dammit..." he said as he peered out into the dimly lit street. The tank seemed to be smoking, and whined when the gunner unsuccessfully tried to turn the turret.

"Hey!" Shadrach stood at the other end of the alleyway, beckoning them to come forth. As they came forward, he launched into an explanation. "We're pinned down by a mortar team somewhere down there. Arty can't get a lock on them, so we have to neutralize them by ourselves so the platoon can get moving again. We're taking this route." He held out what Sirius recognized to be a PokeNav, and projected an rough map of the city out into the air. A yellow line zigzagged through several avenues, leading to a point some distance away from their location. "Is that clear?"

Sirius' voice got drowned in the several yessir's of the squad as they began to follow the Umbreon's lead. He took the time between shuffling down this road or narrowly avoiding that mortar shell to reflect on what had happened hours prior. He knew it wasn't the best form to be so preoccupied with his concerns, especially in the covert action that they were about to take, but the thought of Siria failed to leave his mind.

Nor did he try to shoo it away. If anything, he clung onto the image of her sister with a fierce grip. He had been depressed and moody before, but now he felt for once in what seemed to be forever a sincere trust in Levina's words.

Ah, that incredibly rude, stupid, insulting Ampharos. He smirked slightly as he rounded a corner, wondering just how exactly his initial joking, unabashed advances turned into a grudging respect for her. He unconsciously sniffed at his arm (he swore he could still smell a lingering stench), quite aware of what atrocities she had wreaked upon him months before. She had been a real bitch then, always snarking about this or jabbing at that, always finding a chink in his armor to exploit.

That all changed the night he tried to get Siria to talk. He understood that he was way in the wrong when the Latias hit him and took off. Sirius didn't resent Levina hitting him in the chest at all; he fullheartedly deserved it. The conversation afterward had been normal, too, at least on her terms; the Latios found it to be incredibly acerbic, but what else was new? It was just what she said after she thought he had fallen asleep that unnerved him. He racked his memory for the exact words, something along the lines of-

"Shhh." Sirius' thoughts quickly dispersed as Shadrach crouched down, holding his paw back in a gesture to stop. The Umbreon gripped his rifle tightly, pointing at a three 'mon crew in a courtyard hardly ten feet from where the Special Forces 'mon hid. One of them was sighting a mortar while two others opened a wooden crate with a crowbar, tossing the Lugia-emblazoned lid to rest with the dozen or so other boxes behind them.

"Arceus, is that..." Levina said, seeing the infamous crested head as the 'mon stepped back from the mortar and put his paws to his ears.

"Mirunas' emblem? Afraid so," Shadrach said in a low voice. He slid his rifle's charging handle back slightly as the faint _boom_ of the mortar firing reached them. "But we can deal with the diplomatic implications later. These 'mon need to die. Sirius, get my right. Din, besides him. Jackson and Levina, stay back and prepare to reinforce."

The Latios adjusted his position, creeping quietly to the other side of the alleyway as he charged a Shadow Ball in his hand. He would have preferred to use Dragon Pulse or another more powerful special attack, but Shadow Ball was the only one that wouldn't give off a radiant light signature. As he watched Din power up an Ice Beam in his maw, the dragon then realized why Shadrach had picked them two instead of the electric-types behind them: their attacks were less flashy and thus less noticeable to the enemy.

Shadrach cricked his neck and looked down his sights. "I got the one on the left. Din, middle. Sirius, right. Got it?"

"Yeah."

"Alright now. Three, two, one, go."

The muffled pop of a silenced rifle, the frosty hiss of a beam of ice, and the faint hum of dark energy all sounded as the attacks struck the Tamsus 'mon dead before they knew what hit them.

"Good." Sirius saw the Umbreon lower his rifle and look around. "They might still have security, but I want to check out those boxes. If that's really Mirunas contraband, then we have a serious problem."

Sirius took the rifle from Shadrach as the dark-type slowly stepped out into the courtyard. His shadow played on the brick walls as the small fire the Tamsus 'mon made flickered. The vat of soup boiled slightly, beckoning the cook who had prepared the meal to come and take a look.

Of course, that 'mon would never come. He laid dead, head gushing a bit of blood as Shadrach crept right next to it.

The Latios continued to scan the area, concerning himself with the rooftops in particulars. As the dark-type began to take pictures of the ammunition boxes, the dragon could see a shadow flit on one of them. The muzzle of a rifle gleamed slightly before disappearing.

"Shadrach," Sirius said hurriedly, "Tango on the roof. Get out of there."

"Wha-" The Umbreon yelled as a bullet pierced his lower leg, causing him to buckle over in pain.

Sirius started to let rounds loose at the target up above, but couldn't see much more. "Gonna light," he grunted, tossing the rifle down and charging a Hidden Power Fire in his claws. He thrust the fireball upwards, causing the entire courtyard to be illuminated with a warm, yellow glow.

"There he is!" Jackson said, directing a Thunder Wave at the movements of a Ninetales above. The 'mon flitted into disappearance, flashing them the telltale silvery tails as the fire-type made an exit.

Sirius rushed over to Shadrach, once again prepared with his kit. The dark-type waved a hand at him and turned his leg away. "It's a minor wound. I can attend to it later."

"But-"

"If we stop to treat it now, then we delay in rescuing Siria," he growled, wrapping a makeshift tourniquet around the wound. "I don't want that. It's precious time. Otherwise, we might not be able to get there before-"

He stopped mid-sentence as his headset crackled."Echo One, come in, over."

Shadrach recognized the voice of the Porygon-Z. "I read you, Kilo Two, over."

"Right. A few minutes ago, we got a report from one of our helos that a green flare went up in the eastern district. We think it's Siria."

The Umbreon's heart jumped slightly at the great possibility that she was still alive. "Can you upload a map?" he asked, looking around as his squad surveyed the yard.

"Hold up. You should be receiving it any moment now..."

Shadrach's PokeNav beeped twice. He snatched it from his belt and held it palm-up, projecting a new map into the air. A thin green line snaked between houses and across the city to... a point superimposed on a house?

"That's the helo's location at the time of the sighting. Measure out a few hundred feet or so to the east. Sorry we can't provide more accurate readings. You're on your own from here, over."

He frowned at the path they had to take. It would undoubtedly put them through several unfriendly contacts, but...

"Alright. Thank you for the information. Echo One, out." The Umbreon staggered up with some difficulty, the pain from the bullet wound shooting up his thigh. He ignored his body, though, convinced that his comfort would come only after Siria was secured. Patching it up now would only make him feel _less_ at ease.

"Levina," he called. As the Ampharos looked at the PokeNav's projection, he said, "We've got a confirmation on Siria's position. This is what we're going to do..."

* * *

"They come." Jul breathed shallowly after draining the last of the water in his canteen, tossing the empty container at the sound of approaching voices. It had been a miracle that no one had come by to investigate for the twenty minutes they had remained in their location.

He languidly picked his rifle up, shoving the stock into his shoulder with one paw. His other thumbed one of the few fragmentation grenades they managed to salvage from the wreck the helicopter had left behind.

Siria sat besides him, both of the soldiers leaning back against a stump of a wall. "Yes, they do," she said as she munched quietly on the last berries in the wooden box. Her psychic abilities were slowly returning to her, but hardly matched what she was normally capable of. She still didn't know what the drug did to her, either, so she wasn't eager to figure out the side effects in the middle of combat.

A sigh came from the Garchomp in the corner. For all of their time in the ruins, the dragon had been in deep contemplation about what had just happened. Or perhaps tiredness; Siria didn't quite know, and didn't exactly have the desire to find out.

What struck the Latias as odd was that nobody gave half a damn about the situation they were in. After fighting that ferocious Typhlosion, neither of them had the will to get up and fight off another wave of enemies. It seemed more like a chore than a necessity; a simple problem to be solved rather than a pressing issue.

"Well," the Leafeon said, pulling himself up. "How will we adjust ourselves?"

"Use the terrain to ambush and get the advantage. Here, have a Salac." She pressed one of the spiky berries into his paw, earning herself a rather strange look.

"These are rare."

She laughed as she popped another one in her mouth. "These circumstances don't strike you as rare? Enjoy the effects while they last, because Arceus won't be giving us any speed boosts. Nuwai, you take one too," she said, stretching her hand out to her. "My brother can kill me later about distributing his hard-earned food."

The solemn dragon took one and quietly chewed on it. The sweetness of the juice under the tough skin evoked no reaction out of her; rather, she felt what had hounded for the past day: exhaustion. She stood up, baring her teeth and talons.

"Nuwai, stay here and minimize your profile. Jul and I will hide wherever we can." She laid flat against a defaced column and shimmered into invisibility. Her grayish fatigues matched the rough patterns of the stone, so there were no concerns there. The Leafeon simply found half a wall to hide behind as he attached his bayonet to his rifle, the first time Siria had witnessed a soldier actually use the lower barrel attachment.

Well, she had a bunch of first's this very night, so why should this surprise her?

"Watch out," an insurgent cautioned. "They still might be here." Their footsteps were deafening compared to the silence of the three hiding Special Forces 'mon. Jul heard something right around the corner, and positioned himself to get a clear shot at whatever was about to appear.

He nearly pulled the trigger as the body appeared before him. The only thing that prevented him from actually going shooting was the individual's expression. The Bayleef's face was matted with tears. The small body in her arms took short, ragged breaths.

"I... I didn't mean to..." she whispered as a sob arose from her chest.

"I'm not going to hurt you. Hurry up and run south."

She stared at him blankly.

"Run before they get here. We're on your side," Jul assured.

The grass-type bowed thankfully before scampering away to a position that was most definitely not south. The Leafeon wanted to call her back to tell her where exactly to go, but he didn't want to risk blowing his cover. He tried to banish from his mind the most likely grisly conclusion of what would happen to the Bayleef and her child.

Siria peered at him from behind a wall. "Innocent," he said. She nodded and pulled her head back.

He jumped at the report of several rifles before remembering that there was an entirely different war raging in the other side of the city. He then settled back down again and perked his ears, straining to hear anything that could inform them of enemy positions. Nothing but the continuous distant explosions and the patter of the insurgents' feet filled the air.

They went from building to building to search for any Halcyian members that might have been smart enough to have taken refuge inside one of them. Ironically, they were overthinking their strategy; there would be no rear-guard ambushes occurring that night.

The Leafeon heard something brush behind him, and turned swiftly to engage the enemy behind him. However, only a leaf stirred on the dusty ground, making him ease up a little. He hadn't noticed that tiny red streak of paint on the wall before, though...

"Don't move," a voice suddenly said. A Kecleon materialized behind him and warily aimed a rifle at Jul's head. "We have you surrounded."

The grass-type nearly swerved to stick his bayonet in the 'mon's gut until he saw that both Siria and Nuwai were in similar positions. At least ten of them had somehow managed to infiltrate the area and catch them off guard. _And all the while we'd been watching for troops that we could actually _see...

As he sneaked a second glance at them, he saw that each one of them had a black t-shirt and dark pants on.

"So that's how you were able to get us," the Latias muttered. "You took advantage of our lowered senses."

"That's right," an unfamiliar voice claimed. A Kecleon dressed in not black, but instead glaring white clothing stepped before them. "I thought netting special operators was difficult. Apparently that isn't so."

Siria merely cursed as he began to talk over a radio. They've been had, and easily, too! Why hadn't anybody noticed? Why hadn't _she _noticed?

"Right. Yeah, ok, get a jeep over." The ill-dressed Kecleon closed communications on his radio. "Alright, you three, stand up with hands over your head. Don't try anything funny."

Siria and Jul exchanged glances. They then jumped slightly as one of their captors ejected a bullet into the ground.

"We ask nicely the first time. Please get up with your hands over your head." Other insurgents began to filter into the area, fanning out so that they could cover as much ground as possible.

The Latias sighed. In the end, all of their fighting, all of their struggles, and all of their travails resulted in this? She had lost a good operator and friend over the the infiltration, and it was all going to end with them being captured by Tamsus troops?

She got up slowly, being sure to watch for any hint of relaxation in the soldiers' ranks. She didn't find any.

Jul got up afterward and grunted as one of the Kecleon drove the muzzle of a rifle into his back. Siria was far more concerned about Nuwai, though.

"Lieutenant," one of the normal-types said, crouching down to her. "We got a hard one. C'mon, get up," he said to the Garchomp.

"No."

"Up."

She growled. "I will _not_ get up."

The officer set his jaw firmly. "That leaves us no choice. Shoot her." The Kecleon behind her nodded and raised his rifle to her head.

"Nuwai," Siria pleaded, "Please."

"I've had it," she said. "I'm not budging."

"C'mon." The soldier kicked her in the gut for "encouragement." She grimaced, but gave no outward indication of her pain.

"Maurice, forget it." The lieutenant pulled out a steel-gray revolver from his holster. "It's going to be hell to take so many prisoners."

"But sir-"

"Step away." The Kecleon known as Maurice did so dutifully, allowing the Garchomp her breathing space back.

The lieutenant stepped forward slightly, giving both the Leafeon and Latias a glance. "If you can convince her, do it now. Otherwise..."

"You'll commit murder?" the Latias asked coldly.

"No, not murder. I can say that she attacked me. Easy, huh?"

Maurice could not help but to object. "Sir-"

"Enough! Now, Garchomp, are you getting up or not?" he demanded.

"... no." Nuwai had uncurled her arms from her sides, though.

"Well, then. There's my answer. You two. Don't watch if you don't want to, but don't interfere if you want to live."

"Nuwai, move!" Jul shouted as the Kecleon raised the revolver. "It's not worth it!"

The lieutenant narrowed his eye as he stared down at the dragon. "Good bye."

BANG.

The Kecleon looked away after he pulled the trigger. He casually commented, "There, a clean hi-"

He promptly got the wind knocked out of him by a trembling, enraged dragon. Nuwai tackled him at the gut and pinned him to a wall, one horn leaking a slight amount of blood from a graze. She roared as she held him at the neck and raised a talon to his jugular.

The other soldiers started, all raising their rifles simultaneously at the Garchomp.

"If they shoot," she hissed, "I'll cut your neck open."

The lieutenant, previously looking so proud, began to sweat violently under the pressure of the angry land shark. "D-d-d- don't kill me! Don't shoot!" he stammered, eyes rolling in their sockets. He convulsed on the spot, sliding downward from Nuwai's grip as he fell unconscious. Looking at the Kecleon-sized imprint on the stone wall for a moment, she bent down and picked up the cowardly officer by his shirt, still holding one of her claws against his neck for all of the insurgentsto see. Siria and Jul took advantage of the Kecleon's lack of action and quickly flanked Nuwai's sides.

"I guess that's it," Siria said simply. "Either you surrender, or we kill your lieutenant and the rest of you. Even if we die, I'm sure that Nuwai can kill everyone with a few Outrage attacks before she goes down." The dragon nodded fiercely at the statement. "Not to mention that it's not a bad thing to surrender. We actually feed prisoners of war, you know."

Both sides exchanged silence as they stared at each other. The Latias hoped that they wouldn't pick up their rifles and start shooting; she wasn't a hundred percent sure of what she just said, instead relying on the show of power that the Garchomp had just displayed to make her point.

"Holy shit," one of the normal types finally said, dropping his rifle with a clatter. Siria was certain that if he wore different colored pants, she could see the the wet patch emanating from his lower body. The rest of the insurgents quickly followed suit, most of them thrusting down their arms as if they were contaminated with the plague. Maurice set his down solemnly and smiled as he sat down before it.

As Siria and Jul began to secure and frisk the now-prisoners of war, Nuwai dropped the body and sat down hard, hardly feeling the sharp brush of rubble underneath her as her mind began to race again. She hadn't meant to leap up and attack that Kecleon. He had simply angered her with his disregard of life. She was more than irritated at the prospect; she was fully outraged, and snapped before she had a chance to think her plan through. What if the 'mon had better reaction times? Would she be there?

She shook her head in the night air. She could ask herself the same question about when she had resisted their attempts to get her on her feet. If she had obeyed, would she still be there?

No. They'd be on their way to another prison camp where she'd lose another one of her friends. Now that she had the proper time to reflect upon it, she figured quite proudly that what she had done had saved all of their lives, at least for the time being. Lashing out at that one lieutenant had spared them all from captivity.

_To fight,_ a voice suddenly said in her head. She immediately recognized it, and her vision began to water.

_To fight and conquer in all your battles is not supreme excellence,_ the elderly voice said._ Supreme excellence..._

"Supreme excellence... consists of breaking the enemy's resistance... without fighting." She blinked at the adage. It had hardly been a few weeks since Talal said that to her, but she felt as if she had heard it years before. For the first time that night, she smiled as she finally figured out what the Tropius had meant. She had gone and done it. She had fulfilled one of Talal's greatest wishes: getting her to truly comprehend the phrase he swore his life upon.

Too bad he wasn't here to see it.

She turned around at the sound of shuffling feet, and crouched in anticipation for another round of fighting. However, she merely held her position as a pair of white, angular ears appeared over the wall she leaned on.

"Holy shit, it's a Garchomp," she heard someone say as the dragon quickly pulled his head back in. At least one 'mon would be surprised at her recent evolution. She merely turned around and watched as her two other partners finish rounding up the insurgents.

She turned around once again as heard something sneaking up behind her. As she saw the knife in the Latios' hand, her training kicked in. The Garchomp looked out of the corner of her eye and grabbed his wrist, turning it and driving the blade straight into the ground with newfound strength.

"Fuck!" the assailant spat. "Shadrach!"

"On it," the Umbreon said calmly, flanking her other side with a rifle in paw. He brought it up and fixed the sights on the dragon's head. "Don't move, Garchomp, lest I cut your life expectancy down several years."

However, Nuwai was too busy looking at the Latios she had arrested. She immediately let go of him, allowing him to get up and dust himself off. "Alright, now-"

His crimson eyes widened in surprise as he looked over the dragon's face. "Is that- what- no, it can't be..."

Nuwai bowed her head.

"Nuwai, is that you?" he asked, mouth agape. "Do you know where Siria is?"

She knew that she should have felt greatly insulted by the Latios' nearly casual lack of attention to her status, but she was too tired to care. "There," Nuwai said, pointing towards a red figure a few yards away.

Sirius looked at the Latias for about half a second before deciding that it was her. "Sis!" he yelled as he zoomed past the others.

"Wha-" The red dragon had hardly a moment to blink before she was tackled down to the ground in a hug. "What the- Sirius?" Her voice sounded hollow as he smashed her face into his chest.

"You're alive, dammit, you're alive! And you're not a Shadow 'mon, either! Are you?" He inspected her face more closely, but couldn't discern much through the tears that clouded his eyes.

"Well, I mean- Sirius, could you let me up at least?" she asked exasperatedly. The Latios relented, but only for a moment; as soon as she was on her two feet, he wrapped her in another hug.

"I thought you were dead," he said, letting the tears flow unashamedly. "And it would have all been my fault. All of it."

"No it wasn't," Siria said, instinctively wrapping her arms around her brother. "As the squad leader it was mine. It was my fault, not yours... and I paid for it." She choked slightly.

"But-"

"No but's, Sirius." Even in her drug-addled state, Siria could detect all of what her brother wanted to say and express. "You don't need to say anything more. I'm alive, aren't I?" And as he brought her closer to him, she couldn't help but cry a little too.

* * *

From afar, the prisoners watched them from behind an enlarged Protect barrier. "Hey," said one Kecleon, "If we get this rope off of us, I bet we could break out and kill them right now. What do you guys say?"

"Care to repeat that?" The normal-type turned his head slowly to see an Ampharos tower over him. Her eyes seemed to glint a faint red, which only made him all the more scared.

"I- I mean-"

The yellow figure hummed after getting a fuller view of his face. "Huh. Aren't you the one whose tongue I tied some time back?"

The astute observation brought forth a rather unpleasant memory he had previously attempted to suppress. The Kecleon gasped and jerked backwards, only to be caught when Levina grabbed at his shirt.

"Maybe I'll teach you how to shut up more often."

* * *

"Well," Sirius finally said with a husky voice. "You're alive."

"As if you hadn't said that at least twenty times." Siria struggled to get out of his minute-long embrace, forcing the Latios to let go. He sighed as he reluctantly did so.

Sirius then looked around for what had previously caught his interest. "Nuwai," he said, walking up to the Garchomp. He was impressed by the fact that she was hardly three inches shorter than him; the former Gabite had once been a head lower. "You evolved!"

"Yes, I did," she replied in a melancholy tone. "I evolved..."

The subdued voice was not lost on Sirius. "But how did you evolve... oh, no. Don't tell me that it was one of those extreme evolutions..."

The Garchomp left to go back into the former structure, and returned with Talal's charred corpse. Everybody bowed their heads at the former RM.

"I see," Sirius said, humbled.

Nuwai wept bitterly. "I wanted to evolve. I wanted to grow stronger, become stronger, so that I could make him proud. But not like this. No, not at all. I finally grew strong. I got powerful. But for what? He's dead, and there's nothing in the Arceus-damn world that can bring him back."

Din looked up at her, smirk all but completely erased from his features. "I... I don't know." He stared at the body. "Jul, what happened?"

"Burned alive," his brother said, clenching his fists tightly. "Tortured and burned alive and then shot in the back of the head. That's what happened. A terrible death at the hands of someone we didn't even _get to kill_." His voice turned icy as he finished the sentence.

"Damn." Din gritted his teeth. "DAMMIT!"

"Watch it," Shadrach said. "There are probably lingering combatants around here. The last thing we need to do is attract more attention before our extract.

The Vaporeon stepped forward and grabbed the Eeveelution by the lapels. "What?" he said, shaking the Umbreon. "Talal is dead, and all you care about is whether we make noise or not? What's wrong with you?"

Shadrach offered no visible resistance to Din's treatment, and instead turned his head away from the upset Vaporeon. "Would you want him to have made his sacrifice in vain?"

"What?"

"He died for something. It's not hard to tell. So do you want that something to evaporate with the rest of us if we get killed here?"

Din jerked. "Why you-"

Shadrach removed the Vaporeon's paws from his fatigues. "Sorry. I guess I've seen death one too many times..." He offered a heartless chuckle before checking his watch. "And our transport arrives in about a minute as well," he mused as Jul quickly restrained an angered Din.

"But this area is still hot," Siria said.

The Umbreon only smiled in return. "Watch."

Siria turned towards the gradual _thwup, thwup_ approaching in the distance, feeling more and more apprehensive about the setup. All insurgents knew that an optimal time for an ambush was whenever the soldiers were busy loading onto a transport.

Her fears were quickly displaced as the silhouette of the helicopter came into view. It was far bigger than the ones that they were always used to. There seemed to be some guns mounted on the doors that were bigger than the standard miniguns...

BANG BANG BANG.

Siria was surprised that none of the tracers she saw before accompanied the guns' blasts. Her perplexity turned into great surprise as roads, alleyways, and buildings surrounding their position lit up with small but powerful explosions. The transport pumped out round after round as it began its descent towards the Special Forces operators, blasting away any threats that it detected on the ground.

The minute the helicopter touched down, its loading ramp lowered to the ground with a mechanical whir. Three 'mon stepped out of the cavernous belly of the chopper.

"Situation," a Salamence said, shifting a set of heavy goggles up from her eyes.

"Seven stable, one KIA, ten POWs." Shadrach pointed to the Kecleon sitting a distance away, surprised to see a yellow figure beating the lights out of one of them.

"Going to be nine if your friend doesn't stop," Justine replied airily. "Lamar, Erik. We need the stretcher." A Charizard and a Swellow dutifully passed with the item in question.

Siria saw the two coming, and nudged Nuwai slightly. She started with a growl, flashing her eyes at the two Airborne soldiers.

She implicitly bowed down and picked up Talal's charred body. As she set the corpse on the stretcher, Erik dropped his jaw, never having been treated to a gruesome sight before. Lamar simply clenched his maw shut instead. Otherwise, he probably would have thrown up.

As the two carried the stretcher back into the waiting helicopter, Siria and Shadrach walked back to where the prisoners were being held.

THWACK.

"-and maybe if you wouldn't stick your nose into others' issues-"

CRACK.

"-and get a little bit of self-decency-"

Levina raised her arm back for a third punch, only to be restrained by a fuming Shadrach. "Levina, we treat our prisoners with _respect_."

"Respect? Do you even know what they were thinking of doing?"

The Umbreon sighed. "Getting out of their binds and killing us. Yes, yes, I know. Now please stop harming him."

She shot him a glare before storming off into the waiting helicopter. Siria gave her a concerned glance before turning her attention to the POWs. They got up as she silently motioned for them to rise.

"Move it," said Shadrach. The normal-types raggedly marched to the chopper as the Latias led them. Neither of the two wanted the prisoners to try something sneaky after they've come so far.

Siria looked around the inside of the helicopter, impressed by its size. It was large enough to comfortably accommodate all the troops as well as the prisoners. She took a seat next to Shadrach, watching several Airborne troops position themselves at the door guns as the loading ramp raised up and closed.

"AGLs," Shadrach said, motioning towards one of them.

She watched as they slipped their goggles on and started to sweep the grenade launchers left and right.

"Thermal vision. That's how they were able to pinpoint the insurgents as they came down." They saw the Salamence turn and nod slightly at Shadrach's explanation.

"How do they know that the 'mon they hit weren't civilians?" Siria asked, worry etched all over her face.

"Intel told us that there weren't any on the east side!" Justine said as the helicopter lurched forward. The Latias frowned deeply, remembering the Bayleef that she and Jul had encountered back then.

"Don't worry about it," Shadrach said, placing a paw on hers.

She started. "But-"

"We have all the time to worry when we get back to base," he said as he pecked her cheek. "You're alive. That's all that counts right now." He then pulled her into a tight hug. The Latias put up no struggle to his advance.

"You know," he whispered into her ear, darting his eyes back to see if anyone was watching him. "I missed you."

"As did I," she said quietly, agreeing to the implicit pact of secrecy Shadrach suggested.

"And... I'm sorry. I didn't live up to my promise." He smiled somberly. It was one of the few times that he could crack his perfectionist veneer and admit that he had failed at something.

"I..." She rested her head on his shoulder, trying to think of a response. "That's fine," she said lightly.

"What?"

"I know there was no way for you to come back and save me. That's fine, though; you know I'm no weakling myself. I didn't intend for you to constantly baby me when I asked you, you know."

"Yeah, but still."

"Still?"

"I'm guilty."

"It's not your fault," she insisted. "I know that and you know that, so let's not worry about it for now. After all, we have all the time in the world when we get back to base." The Latias yawned.

He couldn't help but smile as he heard his own words reciprocated to him. "Very well, then." He released her, only to be surprised when she didn't let go. A quick look at her face revealed that she was already asleep. The Umbreon considered trying to get out of her embrace for a moment, but ultimately decided against it for her sake.

* * *

A blackened, ragged figure crawled on a dusty street in the city of Riyaq. The fire on his back had long been extinguished by a sudden and, as he perceived it, unfair attack. In his given state, he couldn't have cared less about the explosions and shouts in the background as he struggled to move another foot forward.

"Damn... you... Halcyians." He grunted as his body halted, no longer willing to function. His legs were nothing more than bloody stumps; his left arm, likewise. The other was a grotesque excuse for one, completely mottled and disfigured by hideous boils and pus-filled gashes. Several fist-sized holes lined his body, the many, many experimental drugs he had used on himself not being able to fully repair all of the damage done to him.

He coughed blood onto the cracked asphalt, watching it seep into the dirt between the cracks. "Damn... I didn't think of... how...?"

Aiden gripped a small patch of cloth with his "good" paw. As a sudden pain shot up his arm, he dropped the lab coat pocket. A syringe filled with a dark, blackish substance rolled out on to the pavement before his eyes.

He stared at it for a moment before sighing. "So... this is what it's come to... the original..." The liquid swirled within, the only model of Shadow that he had not commissioned or designed himself. To survive, he was going to have to use the first model supplied by _that_ individual.

He reached forth and grasped it, pushing the sharp, surgical needle into his neck. As the fire-type felt the slight sting and the blood rushing by the impediment, he then pushed the plunger down with a crazed grin.

"This is for you, Lugia."


	25. Homeward Bound

Finally, winter break! It would have been slightly more cheery if I got accepted EA to MIT (deferred ;_:) but even so, I get tons and tons of time to do fic writing and visit people and all of that interesting stuff. Anyways, enjoy; new chapters should be up in 3-4 day intervals for the next couple weeks.

Also, dialogue, dialogue everywhere.

* * *

Chapter 25: Homeward Bound

"Do you have any pictures?" a tired-looking Latias asked. She took a draught out of her canteen, narrowing her eyes as she looked up into the daytime sun.

Shadrach shifted in his plastic chair, tossing his PokeNav out onto the middle of the table littered with paper plates of food. He was thankfully resting in the shade below the eaves of what he assumed to be a Riyaqan coffee joint. If they had been in civilian clothing, they could have easily been college students talking over a few cups of iced coffee. Of course, that illusion would be more believable if a tank or truck didn't roll by every minute or so.

Siria took the PokeNav and began to look through its image libraries. She scrolled past several pictures of their old dorm room, a gallery of weapons that the government "promised" to purchase for Special Forces, a couple snapshots of her...

The bright, warm colors then subsided to shades of gray and brown as she saw a completely different scene: about ten or so wooden ammunition boxes laid haphazardly (and quite dangerously, she thought) in a pile before a small fire. Straining her eyes, she managed to pick out the insignia stamped on one of the lids cast in the picture taker's shadow.

The Umbreon watched her surprised reaction, grinning slightly into the china cup of tea the shop owner was kind enough to supply to him. "That's the gist of it. Mirunas is trying to attack us, no doubt."

"But why? I knew that we were at odds with them, but not to the point where they would fund an entire militia to war against our government." She frowned at a particularly shaky picture, as if the Umbreon had staggered when he took it. "And what is this?" she asked as she turned the screen towards him.

He pointed at his bandaged leg. "I got shot, but it's fine." He waved off her concerned expression. "And why? The better question is, why not? Mirunas is a landlocked nation, meaning no ports and harbors to receive major trade. It's running out of the basic resources like water and land, and to further complicate things, its population is booming. We, on the other hand, got lucky. Half of Halcyia borders the sea, we have trade connections with every major nation around, and we have enough resources to sustain probably a hundred-fifty percent population jump. Our political ideologies might be similar, yes, but when it comes down to feeding starving citizens, what else can you do? It's a bargain for more land and territory in the end. I can understand where they're coming from, really."

"They couldn't appeal for aid?" Levina pointedly asked as she tore a piece of bread in half. "Why would they start a proxy war instead of just asking? And why not challenge us directly instead of using Tamsus, at that?"

"What other nations do you know would lend Mirunas aid? Or attack the strongest military power in the region? And who would want to be known for starting a flat-out war, especially in this day and age? Our own government's already giving infusions to Mirunas despite tensions between us, but other states aren't pitching in. The last thing they need to do is sink their money into something that'll never pay them back."

"But I'm sure they'd pay for global stability, at the very least."

Shadrach snorted. "They know that when Mirunas collapses," he said, putting much emphasis on _when, "_They won't be the ones dealing with them. We'll have to deal with cleaning everything up because of our proximity and perceived "wealth," so they see it as strengthening their positions by not burning money up and weakening ours because we have to deal with an anarchistic, poverty-stricken state. It's politicking at its best."

"That's depressing," Sirius said. He had stayed quiet the entire time because he felt that politics was not his best area of expertise (it wasn't).

"Well, what do you want to do about it? It's what the powers that be decided, and these are the results." He looked down the street and nodded at a demolished apartment building. A family pawed through the remains, trying to find whatever was left of their past life.

"They play, we pay. In the end, it's the civilians and those who don't have anything to do with it that get killed. I don't want to be in this any longer, but I wouldn't be living up to my rhetoric if I quit." He forced out a dour smile.

"But why," Siria asked, "Why would the government not come out and accuse Mirunas directly?"

"I don't know. If I had to guess, it would be because of lack of sufficient evidence. We don't have the hard proof to argue. Either that or backroom talks that nobody knows about. Wouldn't put it past them."

Nobody spoke any more of the subject. They were all grateful that they could get at least a day off after they finished recapturing Riyaq, and they were determined to use it in the most unproductive and laziest way possible. Usually, they wouldn't have had such an apathetic attitude, but they were absolutely drained from the last mission.

Some bickering from across the street attracted whatever little attention they had. Looking across the dusty street, they saw a Walrein looking quite miffed at a Froslass shouting at him.

"What do you think her problem is?" Levina asked.

"I don't know, but she doesn't look too happy, and neither does the major." Shadrach got up from his seat, feeling the heat of the sun immediately begin to beat down on him as he walked over to the argument.

"But you have to stage the invasion _now _of all times?" the ghost-type asked, levitating in the air to meet the Walrein eye-to-eye.

The Walrein shrugged and shook his head. "Luna, I'll tell you what I told you before: I wasn't the one who issued orders for the attack. You'll have to look elsewhere for your problems. Now, excuse me. I have 'mon to coordinate, as do you." He left the Froslass hanging as he stepped aside and walked away from her.

Obviously furious, she turned to see an Umbreon walking up towards her. "You!" she spat, recognizing him from before. "You must know something!"

"What?"

"Why did the Army invade last night? Do you have any idea of how many casualties there were? How many innocents were killed? How much damage was done? How much-"

"Listen," Shadrach said, "To be honest, I don't know of what has happened since yesterday. I just do what the brass tells us to do. Like the major said, you're better off looking in the higher echelons for answers."

"'What the brass tells us to do,'" she fixatedly repeated. "Well, what did they tell you to do?"

"That's classified. Why should I tell you?"

"Because as the representative of the RM's, I demand so!"

"Sorry, but that's not how it works. Ask our field officers that. I don't have the paperwork or authority to do anything."

As he turned to leave, the ice-type shouted, "One hundred and thirteen! Does that mean anything to you? One hundred and thirteen dead civilians! The Army is responsible for this! Do you think I buy that war rhetoric, to unite under one flag and charge forth? You're killing our own! You're killing Halcyian civilians!"

Shadrach slowly turned back to face the fuming Froslass. "We're responsible? Well, if you put it that way, we're responsible."

"So you admit it!"

"But don't talk to me about casualties. Do you know how many casualties we've registered? For every ten 'mon we sent in, four are either critically injured or dead! Have you considered this, Luna? Everybody loses, not just the civilians!"

It wasn't possible for the Froslass' face to get any redder with anger. "You _dare_ make civilians insignificant? Arceus, they were helpless! They couldn't defend themselves! Those that you lost were battle-hardened, ready to make their assault and ready to die. And you stand here and tell me that civilian deaths are nothing? Do you intend to make a mockery of me? Answer me!"

Shadrach took a deep breath as he prepared his retort. A couple of trucks, filled with infantry, had stopped to listen to the shout-out. His other three squadmates lingered farther back, but he knew that their dialogue was more than audible from that distance.

"I'm sorry for the fact that there were so many civilian losses," he began, "But the point I was trying to make was that it's selfish of you to just consider civilian deaths. Yes, civilians may have died, but what have they done to secure this city? I don't blame them for their inaction, but we soldiers have fought _tooth and nail_ to liberate them. And you have the nerve to berate me on civilian deaths?"

"Hey, lady!" one of the soldiers on the trucks yelled. "Put yourself in our shoes for a sec, and you might change your mind!"

"You got no right to be telling us how to go around! Why don't _you_ try recapturing a city one day?"

As the 'mon began to jeer, Shadrach nodded. "We fought hard to liberate these civilians. We fought hard so that this place can be peaceful again. If I had it my way, there would be no deaths. Just surrenders. But this is war, and war is messy. Civilian casualties are just a consequence, a brutal consequence. I'm sorry, but I can't change that."

"How can you say that so coldly? Talking about killing as if it's a technical sport?"

Shadrach laughed, much to her ire. "Because I'd go mad if I considered the life that each dead 'mon lived. Do you want to know something?"

"What?" she asked icily.

"You're lucky. You're very lucky. The nightmare is already over for you. You can start to rebuild now. There's no more bloodshed or death in your city; Tamsus continues to retreat south. But me? I have to live this thing to the very end. I have to kill more and destroy more and draw more blood. You have none of that, so take your position and be grateful that you still exist. You're probably wishing I'm dead, I'm sure," he said, looking into her glaring yellow eyes. "The thing you don't understand is that the chances of me actually dying tomorrow are high. So sorry that I don't see the world the way you do."

The troops in the trucks cheered as he walked back to the cafe. The Froslass, too stunned and angry for words, turned heel and stalked off away from the commotion.

The Umbreon sighed as he retook his seat. "Wow," he said. "That felt really good."

"But was it right to be so cold to her?" Siria immediately asked. "She does have an obligation to protect her civilians, and the emotions she gave off more than suggests that she took it personally."

"It's either that or take her complaints to a higher court and just be fed more lies and bullshit," he said. "I'm simply setting everything straight for her."

"Ignorance is bliss," Levina said, setting down her cup. "Wouldn't it have been better to leave her alone instead of shooting down her world-view?"

"Because the thing we want most in the city we just freed is an incompetent leader."

An awkward silence fell between the four of them. Another tank rolled by, kicking up volumes of dust as the treads creaked loudly.

"I'll think I'll take the stuff back in now," Sirius said. The other three soundlessly surrendered their plates, still deep in thought about the argument that had just transpired.

* * *

Nuwai had to admit that flying felt great. For the first... no, second time in her life, she felt the cool wisps of air flowing around her entire body. The _first_ time was when Sirius had flown her over some time ago.

She looked down at the snow-white peaks of the mountains below her, adjusting her fins ever so slightly to get a better view of them. Flying felt incredibly natural to her for some reason; she had expected to have tried for months to do it, but the opposite was true.

That thought left her mind as she glumly considered the cargo she carried underneath her: a pine wood coffin and a extremely large rock. She was impressed by the amount of weight she could now ferry as well; as a Gabite, she would have staggered just at the thought of carrying so much.

There! Seeing a small ledge hidden in the darkness of a valley, she dove down towards it. The air whistled loudly as it gave way to her mass, making her wonder if she could accelerate to the speed that Sirius could. She didn't want to experiment now, though.

She hovered over the ledge ever so slightly before firmly planting her feet on the rock. The Garchomp looked carefully into the cavern it led into before entering it. As she began walking, she gazed at the walls. At first, there were a few scratches in the sandstone, but they seemed to multiply as she continued inside.

She finally reached the end of the cavern. The back wall was marred beyond recognition; she wondered if she could even consider it a wall, with all of its pock marks and jagged edges. A small circle made of stones laid before it. It held several branches and twigs, firewood left over from a time she could hardly recall.

Nuwai blew a gentle Dragonbreath on it, kindling and nursing a small fire to full health. As it gave off a warm glow, she set the coffin and the rock down. She sat on one of the impromptu stone "seats" that she rested upon years before.

Now that there was light, she began to better acquaint herself with the room. She remembered it as the training chamber where she and Talal would always go when she demanded so. That was until a few years ago, when the aged 'mon fell prey to an illness he never quite recovered from. It was no easy task to hike miles and miles to reach this spot. She felt slightly guilty that she took the easy way and flew, but her conscience relented when she considered the reason for finally coming back.

She looked at the ground. The stone returned her gaze, and almost seemed to cower slightly as she raised a talon at it.

She got up and laid herself flat on the ground. The ground crackled as she ran a claw down it, leaving a slight score in the stone. She then blew on it with Dragonbreath, deepening the crack an inch or so.

Nuwai knew that the coffin was about two feet tall, but she didn't shy away from the task she was doing. As she began the process over with another edge, she smiled slightly, thinking of what her current situation was.

The RM leader (Luna? she thought) was furious at those who assisted the Halcyian Army in the invasion of the city. She had been mad especially at her because she evolved, which communicated to her the violence and bloodshed she must have incurred to gain so much experience. What the Froslass had said about Talal and Ward hadn't been too nice, either. She wouldn't even honor her request to give Talal a proper burial.

So now as she began to pulverize some rock, Nuwai reasoned that this was the best honor she could give Talal. It was the _only_ honor that she could give him.

As she continued her laborious digging, her talons started to dull and her mind started to tire. Her determination, though, continued to burn strong, and she pushed onward.

After three hours, she observed the grave she had dug. Her claws definitely lost the luster they had when she first arrived, but she didn't care. It was worth it to her.

She morosely lowered the coffin into the grave, crying softly as she did so, not stopping to wipe the tears away as she began to scoop gravel back into the hole. Seeing that the grave was nearly full, she took a bag off her back and poured the soil within over the uneven rocks. It wouldn't do any good for Talal's last home to look so haphazardly done, after all.

Nuwai took a few steps back and looked. A rectangular mound of dark brown dirt contrasted by tan sandstone was all she saw.

She then turned her attention to the large rock she had brought along and unsheathed her talons. The dragon stared at it, analyzing the areas that jutted out and focusing on how she wanted it to appear. _Concentrate_.

The uneven edges of the stone seemed to slide off as she expertly flashed her claws at it. A thin, rectangular slab remained in place, corners cut absolutely perfectly through the Garchomp's technique.

_I did it, Sirius, I did it!_ She grinned foolishly at the fact that the Latios wasn't there to see. Not that she wanted him to see her in this state anyways.

She now began the hardest part of her mission. Digging the grave didn't daunt her; burying the body wasn't as hard; but this was something different.

Her claw jerked on the tablet's surface as she tried to restrain her tears. It was difficult for her to write the message because she knew it would be the last time she would ever know the senior Tropius. It pained her to draw her claw downwards to finish the L that rested to the right of that A.

The stone surface grew damp as she continued to inscribe her message. Each score she drew pained her deeply, nearly forcing her to cease the attempt. But she soldiered on, knowing that she wouldn't forgive herself if she quit now. The foreign phrase Talal had murmured to her on cold nights rang strongly in her mind. _It fits well,_ she thought dourly.

Finally finished, she lifted the tablet up slowly and set it in the loamy surface of Talal's grave. She stared at it for a moment before turning her back and quietly retreating back outside. She contemplated collapsing the entrance, but then decided against it. Perhaps later, years from now, she would make another pilgrimage to honor him once again. Perhaps she would pay her respects one more time.

Sparing one last glance at the cavern, Nuwai jumped off the ledge and flew into the air.

_Here lies Talal._

_221st RM Div.  
_

_Father. Mentor. Protector. Peacemaker._

_Tantum inferi finem belli viderunt.

* * *

_

"So, a week off? I can't say that I'm not envious." Shadrach looked at the Latias before him, watching as the wind continuously whipped her hair back. The transport truck ran slowly in the convoy, nearly at its destination in the Drake Mountains.

"Yeah. I guess the Army knows that we'll eventually crack if we don't get some liberty," Siria agreed. "I just wish that you could come with us..."

"Me too." He let out a low sigh. "But when we finally get back, we'll be together working in 'the job.'" He air-quoted his reference to HTR.

She smirked. "Yeah, and Sirius will be left all alone with Levina. Isn't that right, brother?" She couldn't help but grin at the groan that escaped the poor Latios sitting next to her.

"I have to be left with her. Alone. In a new squad. Do you _want_ me to be dead?"

"Well, maybe if you'd stop acting like a retard and stop hitting on me," the Ampharos shot back acidly.

Sirius laughed. "Where's the fun in that? You have to admit that it's hilarious sometimes."

"No."

"But-"

"No."

"Not even time the time when-"

"No."

"Something _has _to give!" he complained, scratching his head in confusion. "How about..."

"Oh, Arceus," Siria groaned. She knew exactly what was coming next.

"I'll never need to see the sun again because your eyes light up my-"

THWACK.

Levina unclenched her fist and stared at the dragon sprawled on the floor of the truck.

"Wow. I knew he had bad pickup lines, but that...?" Siria made eye contact with Levina before they both broke down into hysterics.

Sirius dragged himself back onto the seat. "I thought it was good! I mean, I used 'light,' and she's an electric-type, and, yeah, and... I'll shut up now."

"So you said something about a new squad?" the Latias asked, still snickering slightly from Sirius' abysmal attempt.

Levina shot a glare at the Latios. "Yeah, apparently. Retard and I are going to lead the RMs that we had, Din and Jul and Nuwai. That Froslass cut loose all of those who worked with us, I guess. What a bitter bitch."

Siria blinked. "She really did that?"

"Yeah. Got the news a few hours prior to Shadrach's shouting contest with her. You flat-out won, by the way," she said, nudging the Umbreon next to her.

He gave a humorless grin. "You say that as if it's a good thing."

"What, it's not?"

"Maybe. If anything, I'm probably going to get written up for offending a high-level figure in public. I don't really care, though."

"Yeah..." Siria nodded as the truck finally came to a stop.

"FOB Fearow 'mon, get out! Next stop, FOB Archer," the driver shouted into the back. Siria and Sirius remained sitting as most of the other soldiers began to load out of the back. Their other two squadmates also remained put until the last one left.

"Well, I'll miss you," Shadrach said. He hugged the Latias and gave her a quick kiss before pulling away.

"I will too."

The Umbreon, not one for soppy goodbyes, jumped out onto the snow. Levina lingered behind.

"See ya, Siria. Keep your retard of a brother in check."

"Hey!"

"I can't say that I won't be a bit disappointed if he doesn't come back in one piece, so try at least." She laughed as she too left the truck bed.

They weren't given a moment alone before other 'mon began to fill the conspicuously friendless space on the truck. Sirius seized his sister's arm and dragged her along with their duffel bags to the seats nearest the the front of the truck.

"What gives?" she asked, irritated by his treatment of her.

He smiled. "Just wait."

"Last call! No one?" A momentary pause. "Alright then. Destination: FOB Archer!" The truck began to belch black smoke as it resumed the journey out of the forward base's gates.

Fifteen minutes into the ride, Sirius suddenly grunted as he rummaged through his bag. He produced two packs of cigarettes, much to Siria's ire.

"You smoke?" she asked incredulously, raising a hand in preparation.

"Not really. Watch." He then stuck his head into the window separating the truck's hold from the cab. A Mightyena and a Blaziken looked surprisingly at him as he slid the packs into the latter's breast pocket.

"Hey, Blaziken. Two packs of cigs and you never saw us on the truck." The dragon knew that he was an avid smoker; he would always light up whenever the convoy stopped at a destination.

The fire-type looked oddly at him for a moment before grinning. "Sure thing."

Sirius shivered slightly as he saw the blackened interior of the Blaziken's mouth. He returned to the hold, where Siria gave him a very strange look.

"Siria, get your stuff on. We're leaving."

"Leaving?"

"Flying out of here. I'd rather do that than wait for a plane at Archer." He snapped his duffel bag flat against his back.

"Wait, but-" She quickly understood what had transpired in the truck cab.

"C'mon."

Siria started to voice her dissent as she looked around at the others. "No, wait-"

Too late. Sirius already lifted off, taking advantage of the lack of a canvas cover to fly straight upwards. Torn between looking like a fool and violating military law, she picked the latter as she too flew upwards from the truck to meet her brother. The truck grew smaller and smaller as she finally met Sirius in the air.

"What was that?" she angrily asked.

He rolled his eyes. "You really want to spend hours and hours cooped up on a plane when we can just fly?"

"No, but-"

"Alright then." He smirked.

"How are we going to make arrangements with the airport at home? We can't just fly in or anything. Flying into city airspace is illegal, and we need tickets to land at the airport."

"Taken care of." The Latios flashed a pair of white, barcoded slips at her.

"Where did you get those?"

"Long time ago, before we left on our last deployment."

"The date on there's long gone."

He pointed downwards as he began to descend. As Siria followed, she could hear through the whistle of the air, "I got one of your friends to change some stuff up for me in the servers."

_Great. And now I'm responsible for hacking, too_. She knew the argument was lost, though, and only sighed as they touched the grassy ground.

"See, I'm not the only one who can plan," he said, winking at her.

"Yeah, right. Why are we here, anyways?"

"Change out into civilian clothes. These tickets aren't for military personnel."

"You want me to change _here_?" she asked indignantly. She waved at the miles' worth of grassland.

Sirius smirked, already having worked on a pair of jeans. "Oh, please, as if anyone's going to see you. You think I'd try to peek?" he asked as he turned away from her.

Disgruntled, she replied, "Wouldn't doubt it." True to her concerns, she slipped into a t-shirt and track pants as quickly as possible, constantly keeping an eye on the Latios before her.

"Done?" he asked.

"Yes."

He snickered as he looked at her shirt. "Oh, that's not nerdy _at all_."

"What?"

"What the hell does that even say?"

"What part of 'DeltF = (DEz/Df - DEy/Df)i + (Dx/Dz - DEz/Dx)j + (DEy/Dx - DEx/Dy)k' don't you understand?'" she said after looking down at her shirt. "The curl of a vector function."

Sirius sighed and shook his head. "You couldn't have gone plain, could you?"

"Better than having a freaking little Rapidash at the top left of my shirt."

"Whatever."

Laughing, Siria looked at the sky. The sun shone unobstructed in the pale blue sky, perfect conditions for a long-distance trip.

"When's the last time you flew a long way?" her brother asked.

"The last time? Well, that would be... that time."

Sirius' jaw visibly hardened.

"It's fine, Sirius, it's fine."

"Yeah, but-"

"Besides," she said, playfully punching him on the shoulder, "It's not as if I came back empty-handed, you know."

His mien instantly lit up. "Oh, that's right! You got a new boooooooyfr-"

SLAP.

"So," Siria said as the Latios staggered off to the side. "Home, huh? I wonder if it's changed..."

* * *

The Latias grimaced at the mixture of airplanes and flying-types clouding the airspace of the airport below her. "Sirius, do _not_ screw this up. I don't want to get picked up again."

"Why not? The cops usually treat us nicely."

"Sirius."

"Fine, fine."

She strained her eyes and blinked when she saw a green light pierce the mild cloud cover. "Let's go," she said, diving down towards the landing pad. Sirius quickly followed her lead.

"Entry passes, please," an orderly Swellow asked. Sirius gave her the tickets.

"Thank you, Siria and Sirius Long. Proceed to Terminal Five." She curtly waved them off and switched on the green light again.

Siria gave the Swellow a dirty look as they walked off the tarmac. "What's up with her?"

"Busy day, perhaps." He then coughed. "Or maybe it's this smog. You'd think they figure out how to cut down on it by now."

As they walked into the terminal, they saw a Flareon in fatigues waiting at a baggage claim, undoubtedly searching for his luggage. He reached for a bag, only to be shoved out of the way by an angry Crawdaunt.

"That's _my _luggage. Not yours. What makes you think that you can just take my shit?"

"Sir, I'm sorry. It looked a lot like mine-"

"You think that just 'cause you're in uniform, you can take whatever you want? Fuck off, baby killer." The soldier stood there gaping as the water-type stormed off.

"That's it," Sirius said, cracking his knuckles. "I'm going to beat the-"

"Cool it," his sister said. She painfully looked at the fire-type as he morosely returned to staring at the turnstile. "It's not worth it to get into a fight here."

A shout from the other end of the room attracted their attention. A civilian punched the Crawdaunt in the side of the face.

"You piece of shit!" they heard him scream as two security officers dragged him away. "Who the fuck do you think you are? They serve us! They protect us! They..." His shouts grew inaudible as the escorts rounded the corner.

Siria saw that some of the bystanders cheer slightly for the arrested 'mon while others watched with blank stares.

"YOU GET THAT MOTHERFUCKER!" she heard Sirius roar. "GET HIM GO-"

"Let's _go_," Siria firmly said, pulling him away as he pumped a fist into the air. They walked through the sliding doors out onto the sidewalk, where more than just a few taxis awaited them. She chose one of them, and ushered the Latios in before her.

The Alakazam looked back at them. "Where to?"

Siria frowned as her brother gave the address. She knew that there were those who strongly opposed to the war, but ones as acerbic as the Crawdaunt...?

"Siria, what the hell was up with him?" he asked. "We weren't treated that rudely the last time we got back."

She sighed. "I don't know. That guy was a complete bastard, though. I never felt so much... hate come out of someone before."

"Baby killer, huh? Maybe if he spent a day in the military," Sirius said as he gazed out the window. High-rise buildings flashed past them as the driver drove on the main street.

"Some trouble at the airport?" the Alakazam in front asked.

"Yeah," Siria said. "Some Crawdaunt called a soldier a baby killer and claimed that we were all about power mongering."

The psychic-type laughed. "Not all civilians are like that, you know."

Sirius noticed the strange nomenclature. "Were you in the military before?"

"214th Signal Company. Spent my entire deployment coordinating 'mon left and right. But boy, you two aren't the first who've complained about that kind of treatment. It's a real interesting world back home, you know. Completely different from Trinity or whatever. That's where I was stationed last."

"It's been a whole year since then," Siria said. "I wonder if they've changed at all..."

"Nope." He brought the taxi to a halt at a red light. "It's the same everywhere. You got your little sect that wishes that all Halcyian soldiers should be executed for war crimes, another sect that wants everywhere Tamsus operates nuked to hell even at the cost of killing citizens, and that vast majority that just doesn't care. I can't remember the last time anyone held a movement arguing either for or against the war."

"Apathetic?"

"Just about. You should watch the news sometime. It's a riot. You got two here dead because of a Tamsus ambush, and everybody passes it off as an everyday occurrence. Sure, you have all the vets in an outrage, but who listens to _them_ anymore?" He let out a brittle laugh as he stepped on the gas. "It's all numbers in the end."

Siria sat back, thinking about his statement as the taxi lurched forward again. It was an interesting dichotomy, to have those who intensely cared and those who simply didn't. But often the emotions of those who did have blatant opinions on the war often spiraled into degenerate rhetoric...

"I think there's still hope," Sirius said, drawing surprised looks from the other two. "I don't think they just happen to ignore us like we're nothing. I think they appreciate the fact that we defend them. It's just that there're some assholes out there, like that Crawdaunt, who ruin it for everybody else." He gritted his teeth at the mention of the water-type.

"So optimistic, boy. Let me ask you something," the Alakazam said, peering at the dragon for a moment. "You have any proof that they care? Tell me. What makes you think they care?"

When Sirius failed to supply an answer, the psychic-type shook his head. "'mon, wasn't there a time when society cared about the ones who made it free? I don't know, I really don't." The taxi finally slowed to a halt in front of an apartment building.

"Here's your stop," he said as Sirius got out. Siria handed him several more bills than the ticker listed.

"I know veterans don't get much pension," she said matter-of-factly.

"We don't," he agreed, sad smile working its way on his face. The Latias hadn't realized how old he was until she got a good look at his face. "Thank you for the tip, and good luck against Tamsus."

Siria watched as the yellow car sped off into the distance, and shivered as a slight gale blew past her. Suddenly conscious of her relatively simplistic attire, she followed her brother into the warmer apartment.

As she started climbing up the rugged stairs, she could hear the slight pat each one of her steps gave. She remembered the sound from years and years ago; it always had a lonely ring.

"Now, Siria, be nice to him," Sirius said, looking back at her. She merely scowled in reply.

He frowned at the suddenly recalcitrant dragon. "You know he works hard. Show a little bit of compassion, at least."

Both of them now stood before an apartment door. Sirius raised his fist and knocked twice.

Hardly a moment passed before the knob turned, yielding a tall, wizened Latios. His serious face broke into a smile as he saw who his visitors were.

"Sirius! Siria! Welcome back!" He stepped aside to allow the two into the common room.

He paused for a moment to inspect the two siblings that stood before him. "It's been quite a while," he said.

"Yes, father, it has," Siria testily replied. The two of them stared at each other.

"Well-"

"If you would excuse me." Without ado, Siria picked up her duffel bag and stalked off to her room.

The Latios gazed at her sadly before looking back at his son. "Sirius..."

He smiled ruefully as his father hugged him. "Hey, dad."

"She hasn't gotten over her issues, has she?"

"Not at all, though she did complain less about it this year."

The elder walked over to the kitchen. "Well, that's something to be grateful about, isn't it?"

"Yeah..."

He handed Sirius a glass of water. "So, how have things been for you?"

"More of the same. More deaths, casualties, stuff like that." Hearing his father balk, he continued, "We're making progress, though. This war might be over soon."

"Isn't that what you said the last time you came back?"

"Yeah, but it's for real this time! I think..." He took a sip of water. "Anyways, dad, how's it been going in Azure Heights?"

He blinked at the mention of the city's name. "Slow as usual. My job's been holding steady at the tank plant, so I'm grateful for that, though I've been wishing I went into the psychic business instead. More money to be made there."

"And you'd want to read the minds of angsty couples and raving lunatics all day?" Both of them laughed at the thought.

"It's a bit lonely without you and Siria here, as usual," he admitted with a sigh, "but at least you're back for a week or so, right? Maybe I can take another shot at getting in touch with her again..." He set his cup down with a bitter expression. "I still haven't forgiven myself for what I did so long ago."

"Dad..."

He waved him off. "It's fine, it's fine. You should unpack and wash up; dinner will be ready in half an hour."

Sirius saw straight through the paper-thin smile the elder threw at him, but decided to heed his orders for his sake. "Sure thing."

* * *

Siria stared at the Ho-Oh she had quickly drawn on her sketchpad. The phoenix glared back fiercely, beak open wide in a war cry.

She frowned at one of the curls on its head, dissatisfied with how it appeared to her, If the bird could have shrieked as she took an eraser to its head, it would've.

However, the only complaint the paper gave was a slight, nearly noiseless scratching as she lightly maneuvered the rubber on the graphite. She set to penciling the curl in again, narrowing her eyes with concentration.

Concentration that was quickly jarred by a dull _thud_ coming from the entrance of the room. She looked up to see a Latios rubbing his face in pain.

_Let me in,_ Sirius said. _That Reflect barrier hurt_.

Sighing, she removed it from the door. The Latios acquainted his side of the room with his duffel bag before jumping on the bed.

"So," he said as he dumped the entirety of his bag onto the bed. Siria said nothing, instead choosing to flesh out the plumage of the Ho-Oh.

"Siria, give dad a chance, at least," he pleaded.

The lead in her pencil cracked as she applied an inordinate amount of force to the paper. She stared at the graphite dust surrounding the tarnished line before slowly looking back towards her brother. "And _why_ should I give him a chance?" she asked, tone of steel working its way into her voice.

"You know he's sorry for what he did! And consider the circumstances, at least..."

She turned in her chair to face him. "Consider the circumstances? Arceus, he yelled at me straight for an hour and called me everything under the sun! I'm sure that _you_ would have been impressed with the curses he brought up. Hell, even Arceus would've been surprised at a few of them! He called me everything that would have insulted the sensibilities of a Slaking, and then some! And you want me to _consider the circumstances_?"

Sirius sat up straight. "He was drunk-"

"So what?"

"You know how bad it is, with mom having died back then! You took sociology; you know how closely related Latis are-"

"Shut up! That doesn't matter!"

"How does that _not_ mat-"

"How would you like it if he said that you wouldn't have existed if he and mother did it right?"

"He didn't mean it-"

"Sure as _hell_ he didn't mean it! Like he didn't mean it when he said that it was _my_ fault that our mother was dead! Or that it was _my_ fault that we both got expelled from school!"

The Latios growled. "_Don't_ go there."

"I'll go wherever I want-" Siria blinked and looked down, suddenly abashed by her behavior. Both of them had made a promise to never broach the subject again, and she had come so close to doing so.

Both of them preoccupied themselves with their own work; Sirius continued to organize his stuff as Siria continued to draw, albeit much more jaggedly and roughly. Anything to take their minds off of the topic they were about to talk about.

"Well," the Latios said after some time. "Dad called. He wants us at dinner. Do you want to come?"

She gave him a cold stare.

"C'mon," he wheedled, giving her Poochyena eyes. "Just for one night?"

She gritted her teeth and looked away. "You know I hate it when you give me that look."

Sirius inwardly smirked. Even though Siria seemed to have the upper hand most of the time, he had a few aces up his sleeve as well.

"Please?" he pleaded once more. Like before, he captured Siria's attention, but this time he managed to hold it. Crimson red stared at hazel yellow for a moment...

"Fine!" she finally exploded, rolling her eyes. "It better be worth it, though."

* * *

"Well, he _is_ a good cook," Siria begrudgingly admitted. She flipped over on her bed, better adjusting the pillow under her head. "Though I wish his food would say something of his moral fiber."

The Latios across the room sighed. "Still on that, huh?" After eating the giant meal their father prepared for them, both were so sated that they couldn't pursue anything more than some brief exchanges.

Both of them laid in the darkness, with only a shift or a twitch disrupting the ambient noise of the traffic some distance away.

"What do you plan to do tomorrow?" the Latias suddenly asked. She had lapsed back into her military psyche for a moment, only now remembering that she was free for a week.

She heard him hum for a second. "Uhh... well, tomorrow's a Sunday, right? Probably going to help dad clean some stuff out. He'd never do it on his own time."

The Latias frowned for a moment. She didn't understand how her brother could have such a connection with her father; surely he had heard the things that came out of his mouth that night, or received the waves of pain she felt when he whipped her with a belt? Verbal abuse was one thing, but to make that transition to the physical realm was something different.

_Perhaps it's a father-son thing_, she thought wryly. _Maybe if _I _had someone to talk to I'd understand..._

_ "_And what do you plan to do?" her brother returned. She froze slightly at having her train of thought interrupted.

"Well, I..." Truth be told, she hadn't really given thought to the prospect of having so much time off to herself. The concept of having unlimited freedom was absolutely foreign to her.

Sirius snickered. "You haven't thought of anything, have you?"

Blood rushed to her face. "Yes I have-"

"Then what?"

She closed her eyes, half in anger and half in contemplation. What was that one movie she had read about in the newspaper...?

"_The Maltese Pidgeot_? That came out six months ago!" He laughed.

Siria nearly fell out of her bed. "Arceus, Sirius, were you looking through-"

"No. Just one of those random wisps of thought I picked up from you." The Latias could tell that he was smirking like a mad'mon, though.

"And I suppose you have something better to do for the next week? Like what, hitting on girls at the bar like last time?"

"Hey, that was for one night only!" She grinned at the indignant tone she drew from him. "And I _almost_ got her! Almost!"

"Right, you mean before she nearly ripped your face off with a Dragon Claw?"

"Whatever! Point being, I have something to do and you don't!" Siria swore that she saw the faint redness of a tongue being stuck out at her.

"So what?" she asked. "If anything, I'll probably go out for a few days with some friends, nothing more."

"You're not going to be at home at all?"

She pulled her sheets a little higher up. "Well, for a couple, I guess..."

"Why not help out tomorrow?"

"With him?"

"Dinner wasn't bad; you can give it another shot."

"Only because you tricked me into it, you conniving ba-" She suddenly sneezed.

"Yes?" she heard his voice glibly ask.

The Latias shook her head. "Shut up; just because I sneeze doesn't mean that my argument is invali-" She sneezed again.

"Yes?"

"... maybe our room could use a little cleaning," she acquiesced. Siria doubted that it had been touched ever since the last time they came back, meaning that an atrocious amount of dust laid everywhere, including...

She briefly considered getting off her bed, but thought better of it when she realized how late it was and how much noise the effort of cleaning it would make.

"Night, Sirius," she grumbled. She would be content with just moving as little as possible until the next day.

As she raised her head slightly, Siria took a final glance through the window at the end of their room. The city lights twinkled back at her, the hallmarks of the bustle of the capitol of Halcyia. As she saw the tall spiral of the Presidential building, she couldn't help but wonder how soundly their leaders were sleeping that night. How many of them actually understood the war they waged?

Her thoughts quickly vacated her mind as she fell into a well-appreciated slumber.


	26. Talking Points

So I said something about updating every four days or so. Well, I lied D: At least I got this done faster than before...

Note: I don't advocate drinking alcohol, nor have I drunken it before.

* * *

Chapter 26: Talking Points

Levina and Shadrach walked into the DFAC, followed by the three surviving RMs. The Umbreon flattened his ears as he looked for the part of the cafeteria that resembled but was not actually a bar. He smirked as he saw the chairs lined up before what was probably an unauthentic oak counter. It was not a bar, but rather an "establishment erected for the proper consumption of myriad types of beverages and drinks." The eyes of any military bureaucrat who approved everyday requests would have simply glazed over at the verbose name.

An Absol, polishing a glass that was previously filled with "a glass of carbonated beverage whose ethanol (or hydroxyethane, for those who _really _wanted to throw off a particularly watchful official) content was that of an unknown amount," spotted the five of them coming over. "Hey, Shadrach!" he greeted as they took some seats. "What'll it be today?"

"Give me a Lilycove Breeze," he said quickly, looking around him to see if anyone heard the name.

"And you?" the dark-type asked Din.

"Do you have anything with one part Oran and two parts Passho?" he said, unfamiliar with all of the different beverages they served.

"No, but I can make it. One part alcohol, right?" Din nodded. "And you?" He looked at the Leafeon seated besides him.

"Same as him."

The Absol took out a steel container. "Right. And yo- wait, how old are you?"

The Garchomp looked back at him. "Not old enough."

"You _look_ old enough, I'll tell you that. You uhh... still want something?" Levina was certain that Siria would have knocked the living daylights out of him if she was there.

"Do you have any Haban juice?"

"Yeah, I'll get you that. And Levina, right? I saw you a couple times around here. What'll it be for you?"

She blinked. "I don't drink."

Shadrach nudged her. "Remember what we're here for."

She sighed. "I don't know... a beer, I guess?" It was the first alcoholic beverage that came to mind.

"Sure thing."

As the Absol began mixing, Din was the first to break the silence. "I... it's hard for me to imagine. Are Talal and Ward really gone? On any other day they'd be here drinking."

"Talal wouldn't have," Jul said as the Absol poured a blue concoction into a tall, thin glass. "Ward would have drank to his heart's content."

"Yeah... usually Talal would be training with Nuwai." The Vaporeon gave her a smile.

She looked up at him from the glass she drank out of. "It's a good thing that you evolved, though," he continued. "Are you going to keep your name or get a new one? You're no longer a 'little fire,' after all."

The Garchomp frowned as she set her glass down. Her true name, the one that no other 'mon could actually decipher, had rested within two individuals: Talal and herself. Now that the former was dead, she was the only one with that knowledge.

"No," she said as the Absol passed a light blue drink to Shadrach. "Talal gave me this name. At first I wanted to because I couldn't stand the idea of staying a Gabite, but..." She smiled sadly. "I think I'll keep it."

"A wise choice," Jul said as he took a drink. "This is good!"

"Well, he's a really good barkeep." Shadrach took a swig of his own. "Though I don't know if Nuwai would give him a run for his money."

She mumbled as she looked down into her cup. "Probably not."

"Last one," the Absol said as he slid a mug of beer down to Levina. It slid perfectly on the mock wooden counter, stopping inches before her folded arms. She stared at the amber, foamy liquid. A few bubbles rose from the sides of the mug to the surface.

"Anyways," Shadrach said, "I'm not certain if RMs do this, but we usually drink to the fallen." He nudged Levina again for effect.

"So." The Umbreon raised his glass. "To Ward and Talal. May their sacrifices never be forgotten." Everybody, even an extremely hesitant Levina, raised their glasses in a toast.

"To Ward and Talal," they repeated before taking a sip of their drinks.

Levina set her mug down, wrinkling her face at the taste. The drink was bitter, almost like black coffee. A little too bitter for her liking, but also quite crisp and smooth. There was a telltale hint of bread in the aftertaste; she assumed it was from the yeast. Either way, to her it didn't taste very good, but interesting enough to warrant another try.

She drank a little more of the brew. The same taste returned, albeit much more subdued.

Then she took another sip. And another. And another. And yet another...

* * *

"And so," a inebriated Ampharos started, her entire face flushed red, "I was like 'Hmm, he seems hot,' but then I didn't say anything because, you know?"

Shadrach groaned and put a paw over his face as she giggled incoherently. He didn't know what atrocity he committed to to be the recipient of Levina's spontaneous, random talk, but he wished that Arceus would tell him so he could never do it again.

"She had only... one glass," Din commented, mouth agape. "I'm not seeing things, right? Just one glass?"

"Not even one." Jul smirked "Half, more like."

"But then there were a lot of 'mon like that all the way back then, cause, you know, I was a teenager then." She looked into her mug and took another drink. "Anyways, I never really asked him. But you know, later on..."

The bartender looked at her oddly. "That her first one?" he asked Shadrach.

"Yeah."

"I'll tell you what," he said. "I had 'mon (mostly Air Wing guys) who came in and slammed six beers down, and even they weren't as Zapdos'd as her. What gives?"

"Low tolerance, I guess." He then turned as something tugged on his sleeve.

"Hey, Shadrach."

He warily looked at the Ampharos' reddened face, slightly startled that the orb on her head glowed far more brightly than usual. "Yes?"

She pressed a small device into his paw and laughed. "I think I'm saying some interesting stuff, you know? So that thing's a recorder. Give it back to me when I'm a bit more sobered up? Okay?"

"Err... right." He slipped it into his breast pocket, noticing that the Absol was giving him a certain look.

"Someone's gonna notice sooner or later, so would you mind uhh... getting her out of here?"

He nodded, perfectly understanding his concerns. The last thing he wanted to do was to close the local bar that almost every 'mon on base frequented. "Come on, Levina. We have to go."

"Why?" she asked disappointingly.

"Because, uh... it's late, and we have to get back." A complete lie, but he couldn't think of anything better.

She surprisingly relented, getting up from the seat as Shadrach put a few bills down on the counter. He nodded goodbye to a snickering Jul, a disbelieving Din, and a rather indifferent Nuwai. Levina seemed to be able to walk somewhat correctly, and staggered slightly as the Umbreon led her out.

Luckily, the majority of the area surrounding the base was comprised of empty, snow-filled space. Shadrach looked up into the dusky sun and wondered if his drunken friend would figure out his lie.

"Where are we going?" Apparently, she hadn't even given thought to the excuse he gave.

"To a place where we can't be seen."

"Why?"

_Because you're drunker than a Skuntank,_ he wanted to say, but he mercifully restrained his mouth. "Because there's someone who wants to make us do an assignment that I really don't want to do."

"Okay," she replied emptily.

They continued to walk for a distance until he could no longer hear the ambient din of the base. Shadrach squatted on the ground, not willing to freeze himself by sitting in the snow. Levina had no qualms with doing that as she fell with a giggle.

The Umbreon sighed and shook his head. It had taken him so much coaxing to get her to even take a drop of alcohol just to honor the dead soldiers, and now here she was, absolutely plastered from only half a glass of beer! He estimated that she'd be a little more sober in half an hour, hopefully less due to the frosty nature of the snow she sat in. Just thirty minutes, no more.

"Hey, Shadrach," he heard once again. This time he didn't say anything when he looked at her.

She completely ignored his silence. "You know, I've been thinking. You know Sirius? That Latios that got in our squad a few months back?"

Shadrach blinked. "Yes. Why?"

She smiled a bit. "You know, do you think he's cute?"

The question caught the Umbreon completely off guard. "Err, what?" he asked, unwittingly inviting himself to be privy to something he would soon dearly wish not to have heard.

"You know, I think he is, in his own little way," she mumbled, growing even redder as she looked down. "I thought he was a jerk or something in the first month or so, but he's pretty nice, actually. Like, he's an idiot sometimes, yeah, but you can tell he cares a lot for Siria, and us too."

The Umbreon twitched as she began to emotionally unravel before him. "I don't need to hear this," he said in an effort to deter her. "I really don't."

He absolutely failed. "And he's good at repressing some feelings, too," she said a bit more sadly, unconsciously beating her tail into the snow. "He probably has to deal with a lot of dead soldiers, you know? But he's so optimistic... it's interesting, really. You know that he cares for us, but you don't know anything about what goes on below..."

Shadrach continued to squat, not knowing if he should just high tail it out of there or act as her confidant. He first contemplated doing the first, but quickly realized that doing so would leave a drunk, particularly unstable Special Forces 'mon out high and dry to get picked up by a few MPs.

So the latter it was.

"And you know, that's the problem," she continued as the Umbreon mentally debated. "It's like, it's so hard to tell what he's thinking all the time. You think he's like, 'Oh, gotta go hit on her,' but is he really like that? Is he really out to get someone, or is he flirting for the kicks of it?" She shook her head in frustration. "It makes me think a lot, and the more I do, the more insecure I get."

Shadrach perked his ears at this. "Insecure?"

"Like, oh, I don't know! I mean, you know how he hits on me a lot, right? And I always pretend to act like I don't care or just dust him off and whatever? The thing I'm wondering about is..."

He had to actually lean in closer to hear her mumble, completely unconscious of the fact that he was enthralled by something he previously wished to have no part in.

"Does he actually like me, or is he just making fun of me? Cause, Arceus forbid-" She inhaled sharply. "I don't know what happened, but- oh, Arceus... I can't believe I'm saying this, but I like him."

Shadrach widened his eyes.

"I don't know why; some parts of him just want me make to hurl, but I like him a lot. It must be one of Arceus' terrible divine tricks, or something. I don't get it! I don't! He's a player, yeah, but that doesn't matter! It's just that he's sweet and kind and all of that, even though he doesn't seem or act like it! It's frustrating! It's just- ugh!"

She waved her arms in the air. "And I'm not one for sentimentality, either! Who would have ever thought _I'd_ be the one who'd fall for someone! The idea's ridiculous! Preposterous! The first thing I told myself when I saw him? 'Don't get involved.' But what am I now? Involved! Ever since that one night!"

"Well..." he started.

"I mean, I don't know what's going on anymore! The thing is, I know him so much now! I used to like Charlie, but, well... he's dead, and the more thought I give to it, the more I think that I never really understood him. Sirius, on the other hand... I mean, I know him so much better! I know when he's happy, or when he's sad, or when he's gonna try something stupid like hit on me!"

Her voice winded down to a whisper. "And because I know him this well, I thought that it'd be impossible for any girl to like him. But the problem is, I keep saying, 'no,' but something inside me still says, 'yes...'"

"And the worst part?" she continued morosely. "He doesn't know. He's so thick-headed and oblivious to the fact that I like him, or the idea of romance in general! It's bad enough trying to express your emotions and have them just ignored, but it's the worst to have to bottle them up because you know they'll never be understood in the first place!"

Shadrach felt that he should say something, possibly a word of encouragement or two, but he didn't know what exactly to say. It could have been both a good or bad thing; one one hand, he could avoid getting electrocuted from accidentally pissing her off, but on the other, she was apparently emotionally wrecked on the inside.

"Ah, well..." The Ampharos shakily stood up. "Thanks to listening to me, I guess..."

When Shadrach too arose, he was surprised to feel Levina hug him, if only for a moment. _The aloof, sarcastic operator no longer so? Or maybe because she's drunk..._

"I think I can find my way back to the tents. I'm sleepy," she said as she took a hesitant step forward.

_Definitely because she's drunk_.

As he watched the yellow figure clumsily retreat, he nearly jumped as something beeped in his shirt pocket. As he fished the recorder out, he turned as pale as his black features allowed him to. The tiny, LCD screen simply read: "Data capacity full."

The Umbreon stared at it as if it was a ticking time bomb. It had all of the information that Shadrach never thought Levina would even say, let alone experience, but she really need to know what she said? Ignorance was bliss, as she had quipped a few days ago. It was nearly impossible for him to imagine the emotional convulsions she would go through if she known that she had said all of that. He knew the various interesting effects alcohol had on people; in this case, it appeared to him that it brought out Levina's more emotionally open side, spilling out secrets that she herself didn't even realize.

_Reaction formation_. Shadrach guessed that Siria were here, she would have supplied such a scientific term. _It would certainly explain a lot, _he mused. From how Levina always appeared to not care about Sirius to the point of physically beating him but all the while subconsciously thinking quite the opposite...

He sighed as he pocketed the recorder, deciding that he'd hide the recorder for probably until Dialga stopped time. As he watched Levina slowly but surely stagger back, he followed from a distance to make sure that she got back safely without doing something asinine.

* * *

Siria sneezed and let out a couple curses.

This was not how she intended to spend her liberty at all. The Latias shook her head before falling back on the pillow, grimacing as she recalled that she never quite cleaned it out the night prior. She really had to wonder: how did she even get sick in the first place?

A bluer dragon walked through the door with a cardboard box in claws. He set it down on his bed before lightly touching his sister's head. "Still hot, I see."

"Arceus, if you find a way to twist that into a joke I swear that when I get better I will find something to shove up-"

Sirius snickered. "No, but thanks for the idea. I didn't know you had such a mind."

"What?" she indignantly started. "If my bed weren't so dusty, I would get up and hit you."

"Hm?" He gave her a questioning look.

The Latias rolled her eyes in return. "All of the dust in this room is probably what got me sick," she groaned. "Including my bed..."

"Well, we can fix that." She saw him turn around for a moment to move the box off his bed. She then stammered slightly as the Latios picked her up, blankets and all, and set her gently on his own bed.

"What gives?" She sneezed and looked angrily at her brother. Of course only _he _would have the nerve to do what he just did. "Only Arceus knows how much dust is on _your_ bed-"

"None, actually," he admitted, looking out the window.

"And how do you know this?" She felt an pounding feeling in her head, more intensified than usual due to her Psychic typing.

He smiled dolefully. "Dad told me he cleaned it a week before we came back. I don't know about your side, though; he probably didn't because he wanted to respect your space."

"Of cour-" Another thought suddenly crossed her mind. "What time is it?" She would die of shame if it was past si-

"It's eleven in the morning, or as how you'd like to say it, eleven-hundred."

"Oh." Her face went blank for a moment.

"You overslept by exactly five hours and sixteen minutes," he said as he looked at his watch.

She twitched. Five hours and sixteen minutes of work (even though it would be done in her father's presence) that wasn't had. "I'm going," she announced before Sirius pressed her back into bed.

"No."

"But-"

"Get some rest," he said firmly. "You can rest now and work later, or work now and stay in bed for the rest of the week." When she started to object, he continued, "If there's one thing I'm not 'dumb' in, it's medicine, so stay put. I'll be back in a minute with breakfast."

She glowered at the Latios' winged back as he left the room. Her? Not do something productive? It mystified her that for the first time in what must have been forever, she wasn't required to finish a directive or file a report. The feeling made her extremely uncomfortable, and the fact that she was sneezing half the damn time didn't help either.

Now that she thought about it, the idea that she was antsy because she didn't have orders to follow was disturbing in itself. It had been a whole year since she'd ever seen the civilian life, and it was as every bit as confusing to her as it was the year before, not to mention the year before _that _year, and so on...

_What are you going to do with yourself_? She honestly couldn't supply an answer to that question. _There's going to be a point in time when one day, you won't have anyone barking orders or commands at you. Absolutely everything's going to be up to you to decide, not like in the military where it's all neatly organized and filed for you to do._

_ "_Hey, Siria." Her brother walked in, bowl in one hand and glass of water in the other. She saw him set the food down on the table behind her bed. "Oatmeal," he said as he stirred a spoon in the bowl.

"Thanks." A sniff and a sneeze escaped her.

The Latios looked concernedly at his sister. "You sure you don't need an extra blanket or anything?"

She didn't know whether to be grateful or insulted by the question. "Not really," she said. "But I need something to do."

He sighed. "Still? Well, of course; look who I'm talking to." He lifted the box he had brought in and set it on her sheets.

"There's some stuff in here that we haven't sifted through. I was first going to look through it, but _someone_ has to be pushy. Be careful, though, some of it's a bit dusty," he cautioned as the Latias extended an arm towards the cover.

She nodded her thanks before lying back down again. No matter whether she liked it or not, Sirius was right; she was pretty weak. She was humored by the fact that a Special Forces 'mon tempered against the deadliest missions the organization faced could be felled by something as simple as an illness.

"Oh, and-" Sirius produced a small, golden bell, putting it next to the steaming bowl of oatmeal. From her position in the bed, Siria saw that the Latios wore the most mocking, shit-eating grin she had ever seen. "This is for when you need help."

She blinked before glaring at him. "I swear that when I get better not even Arceus will save you from an ass-kicking!" she hoarsely shouted as he escaped from the room giggling.

When the last hint of blue faded from view, she heaved a tremendous sigh and stared at the cardboard box before her. Leave it to Sirius to make fun of her from every possible angle whenever something unfortunate befell her.

But as she gingerly opened a flap of the box, she couldn't help but feel grateful that there was at least one supporting figure she could rely on in her life. Her brother could have very well been a massive bastard that didn't care for her, inherent genetic predisposition notwithstanding.

_Enough thinking_, she chided as she opened the box. Just as Sirius had suggested, a nearly invisible cloud of dust arose from the interior as she held her breath to take a look. Amidst stray smaller boxes and scraps of paper laid a large, leather-bound book. She traced a circle in the fine dust seated on the cover before opening it gently, not wanting to agitate her sickness any more.

Her eyes narrowed at a set of six small black-and-white photographs of a Latios and Latias pair. The former was dressed in fatigues while the latter donned civilian clothing; from those details, Siria easily guessed who they were, and a faint anger rose within her. _Had he treated mother the same way as he did I one time?_

She began to flip through the photo album, pausing only slightly to see the finer details in a few of the pictures. Parks, mountains, canyons, coffee shops all passed her vision as the photographs transitioned from grayscale to color. Her father was an avid picture taker, having became a combat photographer in his service in the Halcyian Defense. No images of tanks or warplanes or firefights clouded the family-centric album, though.

Her flipping decreased as she saw two new figures begin to dominate the pictures: a pair of children, one streaked red, the other colored blue, but both sharing the similar hue of white. The thought of calling Sirius over and making him cringe at the word "cute" briefly crossed her mind, but she thought better of it; besides, the images before her were far more intriguing.

The Latias' impressive memory allowed her to remember every single event since birth, but something about seeing them so solid and defined in photographs gave her a different understanding of them. She couldn't help but snicker at a young Latios getting slapped by a Dragonite (she had brought the family camera to school that day), or grin when she saw the same yellow dragon and a younger Latias posing together (probably the same day, if not moments after the previous event). Her name was Alyssa, she remembered. Perhaps they'd meet up sometime that week. She was a good friend of hers, after all...

Her smile quickly faded as she noticed the recentness of the photos. A figure that once stood there was no more; there was one Latias less among the three. She noticed that she smiled less and less in the pictures, but she didn't really need to ask why.

The last page of the album gave way to reveal the leather backing of the book. Siria blinked; she hadn't recalled going that fast through the pictures. Then she flipped back to the last page again. The final picture was of them; she had her back turned to the camera, already making her way to the Army compound in the background, and Sirius was grinning and waving at who was probably her father. The stark transition from the lively civilian setting hardly a page back to the cold, singularly military image in the entire photo album was not lost on her.

She felt a pang of guilt at the thought; her empathetic nature hardly blunted the emotion that she knew her father must have felt. That feeling then turned into suspicion as she narrowed her eyes at the closed door. Had Sirius intentionally put the album there in an attempt to foster sympathy in her? Or was it simple coincidence that something so valued would be ignored and passed on to her?

The Latias sniffed and looked up, figuring that the dulled voices were in the next few rooms. _But I can't hear them_, she mulled. She wanted to know Sirius' reason for giving her the photo album, and whether it was by accident or intent.

Taking care to make as little noise as possible, Siria slipped out of her bed to the floor. She had considered breaching her brother's mind to see what the two were talking about, but the chances of her getting caught using that method were slightly too high for comfort.

The door gave little complaint as she turned it ever so slowly, allowing her out into the small hallway that led into the main room. She noticed that the muffled voices came from the door across from hers, and crouched besides it to get a better listen of what they were saying.

"... so of course, that's how it's like right now. We're moving a lot quicker than in the last few years," she heard her brother say.

"Is that so?" an older voice asked. "It must have changed a lot since the last time I was in the military."

"Yeah, probably. You know they've been a lot easier on relationships and things like that too? It's not like when they come down with the Judgment of Arceus when a couple's on base. It's surprising, considering how much the higher ups see them as being bad for military protocol and such."

Siria sat there, jaw agape. _Please don't say it please don't say it-_

_ "_In fact, Siria's dating someone right now."

The Latias had no choice but to groan loudly inside her head, lest she blow her cover. Of _course_ Sirius would say that; no amount of pleading or wishing on her part could stop him from making his series of innocent yet destructive comments.

"She is? Who?" The Latios' voice had a sharper inflection to it. _Great._

She heard nothing but shuffling for a moment. Then, "A guy named Shadrach. Umbreon."

"Umbreon, huh...? I never trusted them; they're rather shady 'mon." Siria wanted to object out loud, but again, her covert position caused her to fall back into an indignant silence.

"No, Shadrach's a pretty good guy. Very direct and clear-cut; doesn't miss a beat unless he's under lots of stress. I'd tell you more, but, uhh... I don't think that you need the extra white hair."

"Tell me, Sirius. Or do I have to probe your mind for it? You know I'm not against doing that to children." Siria winced at the threat; her father was never one for lying.

"I'm twenty, dad! Don't you think I'm a little old for that?"

"Out with it, Sirius."

"Later?"

A begrudging sigh. "Fine. I'll hold you to that, though."

The eavesdropping Latias adjusted her position as nothing but silence interrupted by bouts of movement and lifting came from the room. She was about to retreat back to her bed (it was rather chilly for her) when she heard another query from one of the two in the room.

"Hey, dad?" her brother asked. "Do you know what this is?"

The older Latios paused for a moment before chuckling. "That's a pencil set your mom gave me a long time ago back when we were dating. I was never one for drawing, so I meant to pass it down to Siria. But after all of that... it never happened, so here it stays." She heard a sigh accompany something being set down gently. "Sirius, I wish..."

More silence, except this time there was no movement at all. Siria felt her father's emotions rise to a surge, restrained like water behind an ever-weakening dam.

His voice seemed to crack. "I wish that we could be a family again, like in the past. It was good then; nothing dysfunctional, nothing absolutely wrong. But all of that changed when she left... it was just..."

"You don't have to say it, dad."

She imagined that he cracked a sad smile at Sirius' remark. "It's fine. I had to live this for the past three years, so it doesn't hurt too much to say it now. I thought that after I'd left the military, I could try raising a good family, but I don't think that panned out in the end. Ever since she died, everything's been going downhill. I get fired from my photography job, then you two get expelled..."

"Dad." A harder tone worked its way into Sirius' voice.

"... but I don't blame you," he continued. "Your motives were good, and you protected her from them. It's just that it was handled poorly." The Latias' heart fell at this; she knew that it was her fault, no matter if the situation had been in her control or not, that they'd been shown out the door.

"But it's my fault!" She slightly flinched at an angry stomp on the floor. "If that hadn't happened; if I had prevented it all; if I had restrained my temper, then we wouldn't be like this! She'd be going to a top-rate university and not even have to deal with this war! I mean, I'd get drafted, yeah, but she would be exempted because of her undergrad stuff! Someone like her doesn't deserve to have what's happened to her for the past years!"

Neither said anything after Sirius' outburst. Siria, still crouched beside the doorway, felt even more pained than before. It was much like the photo album; Sirius wasn't an expert in containing his emotions and thoughts, so she had easily picked up on those, but it was so much different to sense them through her more basic senses. The irrational idea of bursting into the room and apologizing to him overtook her mind for a moment, and she nearly acted upon it before for the third time realizing her position; neither of them would likely take it well if they knew that she'd been listening in on them.

"Well," she finally heard her father say. "It's past noon. Lunch?"

"Yeah, I'm pretty hungry myself. Let me go check on Siria before going to the kitchen. I hope she's feeling a bit better."

The Latias jumped at this and scampered back to her room as quickly as possible. She nearly knocked the box off her bed as she slammed the album on top of it and set everything on the ground as gently as possible.

She had hardly covered herself with the sheets when the Latios walked into the room. "Siria?" he asked. "Are you feeling any better?"

She pretended to feign sleep. _Go away. Don't investigate._

_ "_Ah, she didn't even touch the oatmeal. Or the bell..."

Siria twitched.

"It's cold, too. No sense in her eating this." She could sense her brother swiftly moving out of the room, and remained still even after he had left. No sense in jeopardizing her cover in case he came back for something.

After she was certain that he had left, Siria cracked open an eye. A shaft sunlight streaming into the room illuminated a column of thick, heavy dust, undoubtedly thrown up when she had tried to stow everything away in a hurry.

_Arceus dam-_

She sneezed.

* * *

"Air raid! Air raid! Two enemy tangos inbound! This is not a test! I repeat, this is not a test!"

Shadrach arose quickly from his bunk and tightly gripped the knapsack he always kept under his bed. Pandemonium and chaos surrounded him; as amazingly loud sirens blared into the night, half-dressed 'mon scrambled to get out of the tents as quickly as possible. He too quickly became one of them, and weaved his way out into the open. Three mobile antiaircraft guns rolled loudly out into the staging area, heavy treads angrily chewing through the frostbitten ground. Many other soldiers manned smaller, stationary antiaircraft guns, swerving them at targets that were still unconfirmed or even located by fire control.

The Umbreon clumsily opened his bag and took out a pair of night vision binoculars. As he saw several missile launchers being prepared in his peripheral vision, he faced his eyes skyward to see if he could catch any flying objects.

"There they are! Open fire!" He saw hundreds of rounds of tracer ammunition fly out at two nearly indecipherable winged figures in the far above them. Undeterred, the silhouettes continued to fly forward at an incredible speed.

"What in the hell are those things? We can't get a lock!" he heard a soldier operating a missile launcher shout.

"Not fast movers, that's for sure! No heat signature like a jet's, but they're just as fast! They must be foxtrots! Shoot them down!"

Shadrach had to crane his neck now to see the figures fly above, knowing now that they were enemy flying-types. He remained in that position until...

"They're over us now! They're gonna bomb!"

The phrase worked like a charm. Soldiers everywhere scampered for cover, some seeking refuge under the eaves of buildings, others worming their way under tanks, and a few very strange ones hiding under helicopters filled to the brim with diesel fuel.

But no Hyper Beam burst came raining down on their heads; the roar of the antiaircraft cannons went unabated as the dark, winged silhouettes continued their rapid journey over the forward operating base. Hundreds of red-colored rounds continued to fly out at them as the Army 'mon began to repay the debt.

"Got one!" someone shouted. Shadrach trained his binoculars on where he guessed the enemies might be. One fell rapidly from the sky; the other immediately dived downwards toward its partner, attracting even more fire from the antiaircraft.

As he tore his vision away from the scene, he heard the sirens begin to die down through the thoughts beginning to form behind his eyes. The loudspeakers said something about the raid being over, but he tuned them out as well. _What 'mon, _he asked himself,_ could fly as fast as a jet? _Several species, such as Pidgeot and Garchomp, could claim such airspeed, but only during certain occasions.

That was probably it. He quickly reasoned that some pair of foolish Tamsus 'mon had probably tried to assault the base by air, but had absolutely failed. He rubbed his eyes as he headed back to the tent, even though neither he nor any other soldier would be getting much rest that night. Their nerves were far too frayed for that.

Later that night, the intelligence department filed a report with a very similar conclusion: that two insurgents had tried to overfly the base in a scare attempt, and that the other had taken fear when one was shot down . There was no evidence that they could supply to corroborate the report even though quick response teams were immediately dispatched to where the first had been shot down. They had returned in a few hours, claiming that there was no body to be found; perhaps, they suggested, it had been completely torn apart by the high caliber rounds the guns had used.

What was _not_ known by the intelligence officers was that the members of the "quick response" teams were actually individuals belonging to a highly classified, lightweight, and powerful military detachment. What was _not_ written in the intelligence reports was that the soldiers had actually secured the body, and called in a special helicopter to extract it before returning to base. What was _not_ documented in the end was that the helicopter had flown straight to headquarters far back north, where no prying eyes could see the payload.

And what was _not_ known to any of them, blind intelligence officer or first-hand HTR operator alike, was the exact nature of what they had shot down that night.


	27. Shell Shocked

So much for updating over the winter break :( I got caught up in work and college apps, and to make things worse, I got sick as well. I hope this isn't karma for something I wrote a week ago, because it would be slightly creepy if it was.

* * *

Chapter 27: Shell Shocked

"Ugh." Levina stared with bloodshot eyes at the Umbreon across from the dining table. "Never again will I drink. Never again. I don't know how you're able to stand all of it." She groaned as she downed her mug of coffee.

"Well, perhaps you have a weak stomach," Shadrach said as he casually bit into a piece of toast. He hummed interestedly as he flipped a newspaper page, a military article having caught his eye, something about the military assaulting Riyaq and a disabled mortar.

She sighed and ran a hand through her hair. "Probably, yeah. But it didn't help that you made me drink it..."

"You didn't have to drink as much as you did. You could have only taken two or three sips," he replied a little defensively. It wasn't _his_ fault that she drank enough to become absolutely shitfaced.

Levina simply huffed and looked away, more than conscious of that fact. Then, "Hey, but what happened after? I remember drinking and all, and you tugging me outside, but anything later's a bit fuzzy."

"Erm." Shadrach paused for a moment, basic survival instinct barely overcoming his desire to tell everything straight. Arceus only knew what she'd do to him if he told her about what had really slipped out of her mouth. "You passed out, so I took you back had Nuwai take you back to the tents," he said, struggling to contain the myriad twitches on his face.

"Really?" she asked suspiciously as she put gradually materializing memories together with the Umbreon's many quite obvious facial tics. "Why do I get the feeling that you're lying?"

"Because you're blowing otherwise normal behaviors out of proportion," he said rather hastily. He raised the newspaper before him to sever eye contact with the Ampharos.

She snorted. "No, I remember giving you something. Something electronic... a recorder?" She tilted her head upwards in thought. "Yeah, that's it, a recorder. Maybe that'll stir something. Do you have it?"

"Uh, I lost it," he said behind the thin paper.

"You WHAT?"

Shadrach considered standing and retreating for a moment, only to realize that the action would only make him seem even more suspicious. He knew the choleric nature of the Ampharos, and was prepared to do combat if necessary, but he didn't like the odds of a physical fighter going up against a special attacker. Both official research records and personal experience weighed heavily in the favor of the latter. And besides, they were in a _cafeteria_, for Arceus' sake..._. _

More important was what exactly what she was mad about. _What if there were personal effects? Or sensitive military information? I'm dead if it's the second-_

"Do you know how much that cost me?" she screeched. Although the newspaper visibly shuddered, Shadrach sighed a breath of relief. "Those things cost a lot! A military-grade recorder, the ones that we use in combat! I mean, I'd have to pay-"

"Don't worry about it," he said nonchalantly. "I'll procure another one from somewhere. It's an RX model, right?"

"Yeah," she grumbled, throwing a death glare at the Umbreon hidden behind the newspaper. "And Arceus, at least _look_ at me when we're talking!" She snatched the paper from the top to yield a very surprised Shadrach. "You know these things are days outdated unless something leaks like last time."

He nodded his agreement. "True, true. On that note, there's another mission that we have to undertake soon," he said, hoping that Levina wouldn't notice the change in topic.

She didn't. "Mission? Any details?"

"Minor briefing in fifteen minutes."

"And why wasn't I told of this?" she demanded.

Shadrach couldn't help but let a slight smirk escape him. "Because you were snoring in bed and no one wanted to bring you into a hangover."

"Wha-"

"Anyways," he said, expertly cutting her off, "We should get going. The major's not going to be happy if we're not punctual."

"Screw you." She still got up after him, though, albeit with a healthy amount of eyerolling and glaring.

* * *

The Walrein glanced over the five 'mon seated before him. "There are less here than I wished for, but we can make do."

Shadrach looked down the table. The attentive Latias and whimsical Latios were unusually absent, and two of the RMs were permanently gone. He bowed his head slightly at the fact.

"Anyways, I know that it's rather early on the schedule, but we have another operation. A direct action."

"Any time we can get anything but a DA?" Levina asked sourly. "Like a special recon or an unconventional? Or Arceus forbid, maybe an internal defense?"

He shrugged. "Sorry, not my choice. And if you want that, you should have joined a different division. You know this one's more DA than other ops."

"Only cause of Siria," she scowled.

"This DA regards the Nidoking that we had attempted to extract earlier," the major formally began. "We understand that the previous assault was hampered by... an insider providing information to Tamsus. I assure you that we have taken the most stringent measures to increase our security and flush out this informant. You may notice, for example, that I did not send a briefing packet. The courier may spy on the contents and warn his allies."

Din stared at the Walrein. "Are you _certain_ that this is secure? If this also gets leaked, then I don't know who else will die." Shadrach took note of the Vaporeon's irregularly hardened speech as the water-type looked at Jul and Nuwai.

"This mission is being handled differently than others, so I assure you that there will be no interference of any sort."

Din stared distrustfully at him, but contested no further.

"Right. Now, we understand that the attempt to neutralize the kingpin was unsuccessful. The Army's overall casualties exceeded those predicted, meaning that this figure must be taken down as soon as possible. Two Skarmory units that tailed him indicate that he has moved southeast to a small village near the Halcyian border. This area, while not held tightly by Tamsus, is an area where Halcyia and Mirunas have contested ownership for quite some time."

"So politically sensitive," Shadrach said.

"Yes, politically sensitive. For this reason, this mission is entrusted to Alpha Team. We understand that several members are not present for various reasons..." A collective silence fell as the Walrein trailed off for a moment.

"... but five is enough for an extraction. The Nidoking took flight very quickly, so the probability of security being light is high. We have structural plans for you, though not here; security," he said simply.

"As usual, you are allowed to choose the strategy and tactics of the attack. Just understand that this is a sensitive target in an especially sensitive region. Failure is intolerable."

Shadrach, previously deep in thought, opened his eyes. "Can we get support from other units? We only have one unit for visual recon." He looked at Nuwai.

"What unit do you want to borrow from?"

"Romeo."

"Romeo... ever since that last incident, the Air Wing has been restricting Army access to their Skarmory," the major commented darkly. "What happened to RT Five damaged their morale pretty badly."

Shadrach shook his head. "We can't do this without overwatch. Choppers are too loud, all non-special flying-types can't vector and defend against antiair simultaneously, Charizard are too bright... we need Skarmory. Either that or get another pair of Latis, which come once in a blue moon." The general extremely small amount of legendaries in the population combined with the often anti-war stance of many Latis made them far and few within the Halcyian Defense.

"The other Latis are in specialized TFs; they're spread out very thinly," he agreed as he stood up. "I'll try my best to get you a Romeo Team, but I'm not promising anything." A low sigh accompanied his diminishing voice as he walked out of the room.

The SF 'mon looked at each other as they got up. "Well," said Shadrach, "Without Siria or Sirius, this is a little bit more complicated."

"Or Talal and Ward," Din quickly pointed out as he closed the door behind him. "But asides from that, do any of you get a bad feeling about this mission?"

The Umbreon shook his head. "Bad feelings or not, this has to be done. But what bothers me is that we don't have aerial reconnaissance. It's going to be far dicier without the Skarmory." He looked at the Garchomp walking besides him. "Nuwai, can you fly?"

She turned to look out at the mountains. "Fly? Yeah, I can fly..." Shadrach thought he saw something of a sparkle in the pale yellow eyes, but a blink erased any hint of a tear. "I don't know how high, though."

The Umbreon frowned. "It wouldn't be good, anyways. You can act as an combat interim for Sirius for the moment since he taught you a lot of his skills. I can stand in for Siria for CQB, but the reconnaissance aspect is still a problem."

"But we don't have a replacement for either Talal or Ward," Din said.

"They were minor members without specialties, so we won't be too hurt."

"We don't have a replacement for Talal or Ward," Din insisted a bit more sharply.

"That's fine. Since they were general combat soldiers, we aren't lacking anything special."

The Vaporeon stopped in his tracks. "Don't you get it?" he snarled as he clenched his fists. "Talal and Ward... they aren't with us anymore."

He turned to him. "I realize that, but what can we do about it? We've grieved already. Now, there's only moving forward."

"You could respect their memories, at least."

Shadrach tensed slightly noticed that the others stopped to watch their argument. He needed to avoid making himself look like an insensitive ass yet appease the very angry RM before him simultaneously. "I am," he simply said.

"'We aren't lacking anything special?' 'Minor members?' You call that respect?" Din stepped up right in front of the Umbreon.

He could feel the heat of the water-type's anger emit from his face. "I'm simply stating the facts. There's nothing false about what I s-"

His vision suddenly blurred into brown and white as he felt something hard collide with the side of his face. "Well, fuck you too!" the agitated voice screamed over the crackle of electricity. He guessed that Levina must have gotten him quickly with a Thunder Wave. As something helped him back onto his feet, he saw that Din was face down in the snow. A few tiny sparks flew off the unconscious Vaporeon's body.

"He attacked you," Levina said. The pulse in the orb in her tail seemed to fade along with the electrical charge in her hands.

The Umbreon shot a look at Jul, recognizing him as the one who had picked him up. The grass-type merely stepped and lifted his brother onto his back. "I'm sorry," he quietly said. "I... we'll talk this over with him later. Some of our nerves are still frayed from before. C'mon, Nuwai. Let's go." He motioned at the dragon, who silently followed with a frown on her face.

"Well, what do you make of it?" Levina asked as they continued their walk.

Shadrach narrowed his eyes at the question. It was disturbing in itself that the best of those he was working with would directly challenge him, but that Din had actually assaulted him unnerved him. Seeing that he harbored such sentiments, was he to be trusted anymore? Could he possibly be the spy that he had heard about, or was he genuinely that rattled by their deaths? Apart from an outburst when he was initially confronted with the fact, Din didn't _appear_ to have any exaggerated sadness. But again, how much did he really see of him? None, really, outside of mission briefings and some off time.

"I don't know," he finally concluded, showing a rare moment of uncertainty. "I really don't."

* * *

Siria stirred, awoken naturally from a long, restful slumber. She raised her arms in an attempt to stretch, but they didn't extend far before being restrained by the chained shackles around her wrists.

The sleepy haze in her mind quickly fled as panic began to course throughout her body. A moment later, that too was displaced by unusual calm and logic trained into her from years of experience. _Focus, concentrate. Figure out where you are, how long you've been here, who is holding you, how they are holding you, and if there are any escape routes._

The first thing she noticed that the room was all white. Aside from the shadow her body and chains cast from the fluorescent lights, there was no blemish marring the sheer brightness of even the floor below her. A brief smile flickered across her face; _am I in a mental hospital_, she wondered wryly.

She quickly gave up wondering for how long she'd been there; it could have been hours or days or months since she'd been taken captive. It was futile to guess, and not that important; it only mattered if her muscles atrophied, or if there were rescue teams inbound.

The _who_ component of her analysis was answered as a door across the room began to open. She was left to wonder why there were no visible cracks or indentations in the wall from the door. _It would probably because it's so bright outside-_

She was absolutely wrong. As the door swung the rest of the way open, an infinite darkness greeted her. It was if the world outside the room was a black hole; the light from the room seemed to try to fight the death grip the blackness had on it. Her pensive thought was wrested from her mind as a golden, fiery figure entered from the darkness. "Oh, hello Siria," the Typhlosion said with a slight smile.

The Latias snarled and let loose a Surf attack from her maw. The water seemed to be on the verge of overwhelming the fire-type, but suddenly stopped sort and vaporized into steam for no apparent reason at all.

"Why are you attacking me?" he asked. "I didn't do anything... yet."

She next volleyed a Psychic right at his mind, but again, some strange force prevented the attack from successfully going through. A powerful psychic guard surrounded his mind, one that even she couldn't penetrate.

He sighed. "Well, I could give you something to attack me for." The Typhlosion seemed to step back out into the darkness for a moment, only to return with several chains in paw. A few more steps inside revealed that the steel links were attached to three bodies. The Latias pondered; they must be unconscious to be brought inside so easily, for any sane 'mon would put up at least a modicum of resistance against the Typhlosion.

She nearly shrieked out loud as she saw the actual bodies. An Umbreon and two Latios, one visibly older than the other, laid sprawled on the ground before her. "Shadrach... Sirius... father?" she whispered, horrified.

"Just about, yes," the Typhlosion said. "Oh, don't worry. They're alive, but we'll change that shortly."

Enraged, Siria shot a Dragon Pulse at him, but that too was rendered ineffective by a seemingly invisible barrier as the blue beam dissipated midair. "Hold on," he said, nearly chuckling. "Just hold on for a moment."

When he left into the dark again, Siria tried to whisper to the three of them. She hoped to see any signal of life, perhaps a flickering of the eyes or a growl. None of that materialized as much as she tried, though.

"They're knocked out, Siria." The fire-type stood at the door, holding a stubby bronze sword in his left paw. If the circumstances were different, she would have let out a derisive snort at the antiquated weapon. However, with the understanding of what he was probably going to do, her expression was not one of amusement, but horror.

The Typhlosion cricked his neck and leveled the broadsword at Sirius. "Him first, right? Your brother?"

"What do you want from me?" she asked, starting to tremble.

The fire-type slid the sword back into a scabbard on his waist and bent down to make level eye contact with the Latias. Her blood ran cold as he whispered his reason. "Retribution. You nearly killed me, but I survived. This is revenge, and it will be sweet."

He straightened himself back up and unsheathed the blade again. The Latios stirred as the Typhlosion pressed the cold steel against his soft neck. "Wha... what?" he asked blearily as his captor raised the sword. "S-Siria!" he exclaimed, noticing the Latias' shackles. "What the he-"

She couldn't help but turn away as he brought the sword down on the Latios. The abrupt cut in his voice, the cracking of bone, the light _shink_ of the weapon, and the warm liquid which peppered her body all confirmed her terrific expectations. She was too horrified to cry, too stunned to even let out even the slightest hint of her terror.

"You bastard!" she heard another voice shout. Looking up, she saw that Shadrach had engaged the Typhlosion, weaving with a Faint Attack. A small part of her cheered on even though she knew that the struggle was absolutely futile.

The Typhlosion dodged each attack, and struck back with his broadsword. "Watch it," he said warningly. "Or else, you just might get hurt." With that statement, he charged forth with such a great multitude of slashes that the Latias was hard-pressed to see anything more than a blur of gold metal and red spray. As the fire-type extracted the blade from Shadrach's chest, Siria was too slow to avert her gaze when he decapitated him in another lightning-quick slash. The headless body slid downwards, trailing a thick streak of blood on the previously pure, white wall.

She felt a third presence beside her, and nearly lashed out it with a very rational fear until she saw that it was not colored red or gold. Rather, her father was a cerulean blue, a little duller than Sirius' azure shading. Why she noticed that minor detail among the chaos of the scene before her was more than beyond her comprehension.

"The last one," the fire-type said, eying the blood stains on his blade contemptuously. "Your father, right?"

The Latios emitted a low growl. "You stay _away_ from her." It didn't take much to convince Siria that she should accept her father's guardianship. Although she hated him with every bone in her body, she really hated the Typhlosion much, much more.

"Sorry, not your choice." He seemed to defy the elder's Dragon Pulse, its energy shearing off the side of the fire-type's angular snout. "Your daughter has hurt me much, so you will pay."

"Judging from your actions, you probably deserved it," he spat.

The fire-type's crimson eyes seemed to flash with a sense of pain before narrowing in anger. "Careful," he said as he held the broadsword to the Latios' neck.

Siria was surprised to see her father seize the blade tightly in his glowing blue claws. _Protect_, she quickly thought as he aimed a slash at the fire-type's jugular.

The middle-aged dragon was no match for the relatively young, fit Typhlosion, though. With a snarl, the fire-type planted his feet against the Latios' stomach and kicked him against a wall. Before her father could get up for another attack, he had already pinned him up against the wall with one paw, holding the sword against his neck with the other.

The Latias screamed, simultaneously trying to break her chains and loosing every attack in her arsenal at the fire-type. He turned slowly to face her, nearly unaware of all of the commotion surrounding him. Under his scrutiny, Siria ceased her rather useless actions and treated him to a smoldering glare of her own.

"Siria," he sighed, "What would you do if I killed him?"

"I- I would kill you," she said after a moment's hesitation.

He closed his eyes and seemed to smile. "But why? You don't love him, do you? He's a monster, worse than me."

"Worse than you? He's worse than you?"

"Isn't that how you see him? Committing biological experiments and using them against a sovereign nation hardly compares to getting drunk and yelling at you for one night, right?" He pressed the sword harder against the Latios' neck, causing him to choke and rasp. "But fine. He's evil, and I will remove an evil. Observe."

She hardly remembered what happened next. As blood flew forth from the grayish neck, her vision flickered into blackness as the pure trauma of what she saw overwhelmed her consciousness.

* * *

Several hours, she awoke once again. The room was no longer the sterile white it used to be, but a combination of some fresher, redder blood and darker, maroon paste stained on the wall. A strong scent of iron threatened to suffocate her as her eyes watered under the stench.

Looking up, she saw the Typhlosion sitting pensively in the middle of the room, legs crossed, eyes closed, and a crystalline blue ball in his paws. _Wait. A blue ba-_

_ "_You let that go!" she yelled, shaking with abject fury. It was perfectly justified fury; it had taken her hardly a millisecond to identify what the fire-type held as a Soul Dew. _A Soul Dew from either your father or your brother_, a voice within her sadly reflected. No one, _no one_, except the closest of those to the deceased Latios were to even _touch_ the sacred jewel.

The fire-type seemed to stir from his thoughts. "Hmm?" he asked dumbly. "Oh, this." He tossed the sphere into the air as if it were nothing more than a tennis ball. "You Latis are interesting 'mon, you know?" he told a snarling Siria.

"Let go of it!" She would have tried attacking him, but then she ran the risk of damaging or even destroying the Soul Dew.

"How about no?" He stared at it hungrily. "The pure, raw energy in this sphere is more than enough for my experiments. I'll make some Shadow out of this. That would be interesting, don't you think?"

She reared back in utter shock. "W-what? You dare use a Soul Dew for that?"

"Your father's Soul Dew," he corrected. He formed a small hint of a Hidden Power in one of his paws as he held the orb evenly in the other. "And yes, I do. Both my curiosity and my revenge are fulfilled with this. Don't you understand? I get to research and see you squirm at the same time. Two Pidgey with one stone."

"Don't. You. Dare."

As she made eye contact with him, she was certain that there was some form of resignation in the Typhlosion's eyes. "Sorry," he said, shaking his head. "Too bad you didn't appreciate him too much, huh?"

With a paced movement, he brought the Hidden Power in contact with the Soul Dew. The orb put up hardly the slightest resistance as it began to shatter, the shards tinkling like glass on the ground...

* * *

THUMP.

Siria whimpered as she fell off her bed and onto the floor. A second later, she was already up off the ground, frantically feeling her body for the imaginary chains and shackles that were only part of the ether she had just emerged from. Her breath came in short, jagged spurts as she confirmed that she was indeed still in her bedroom rather than an ironically white hell. Her entire body trembled as she uneasily climbed back up to the slightly dampened bedsheets.

Even back in bed, she still continued to shake fiercely. To call imagining those closest to her utterly massacred by the most damned of figures traumatizing was a grave understatement; as she looked over to the covered lump in the bed aside from her, she felt as if she wanted to cry.

"Sirius," she whispered, voice nearly cracking. "Sirius."

She was promptly awarded with an extremely loud snore. The Latios tossed in his bed as he mumbled something about "damn electric-types."

The indignant red dragon half wanted to strangle her brother for his lassitude, half wanted to hug him just for the fact that he was still alive and well. In the end, she did neither as she curled up into a ball on her bed and covered her face with her hands. Even though the dream was already over, the brutal scenes would forever remain with her. She tried not to replay it in her head, but her attempts at halting it were, at best, futile.

What scared her even more were the implications of what exactly she had dreamed. Her brother and boyfriend both murdered without a care... hadn't that been what Aiden told her? She could partially understand why they had appeared because of that. But her father? He had little, if any, contact with her until recently. So why did he come into play? Especially in, Arceus forbid, a _positive_ light? And what the Typhlosion said, "appreciating" her father or something. She recoiled at the thought that the monster had actually made her feel sympathetic about something.

That being said, why did she feel sorry? She couldn't believe it herself; for a moment, she felt _sorry_ for her bastard of a father and what he stood for. Though, as she clenched the sheets, she found it hard to summon her iron will at the mental image of her father being killed, and even harder at the idea of his Soul Dew, his last worldly presence, being desecrated and destroyed.

_Hard _wasn't the correct word, she realized; _impossible_, on the other hand, fit perfectly. She wouldn't be shamed a bit to admit that she wouldn't sad if her father died, unappealing as the idea sounded. If his Soul Dew was destroyed, she was certain that she would go absolutely ballistic on whatever force was responsible for the action. A slightly hint of regret wormed its way into her conscious when she realized that she had been jerked out of her dream right before she had the chance to exact proper retribution on the Typhlosion for that.

A sudden thought then struck had bad dreams every so often, but ever since that mission in the woods, their intensity and frequency had increased, as if Cresselia had given up her guard to Darkrai to occupy. This one was by far her worst in her entire life; yes, she had dreams in which a family member had been killed, but this one had the vividness and realism that all of the others lacked. The implications of the downwards spiral truly scared her. _Am I going crazy?_ she asked herself. _Shell shock, battle fatigue, post-traumatic stress disorder. Oh no..._ It would be doubly hard to counteract the stress, given the sheer complexity of psychic-type minds when compared to those of other types.

She didn't doubt for a moment that those could be the likely culprits, though. The Latias had seen nearly everything in Special Forces, from the shattered thousand-yard stare to the officer they caught in the restroom with a pistol to his head. She never thought that she'd become one of those cases, but judging from her actions, she just might be...

"Hey, Siria," she heard a voice call out. "Why are you sitting like that?"

She squeaked slightly and pulled the sheets further up her, hoping to prevent him from seeing her shake. Hopefully he wouldn't notice anything odd.

"Are you thirsty? Do you need water?"

She snapped her jaw shut. "I don't need water," she said rather defiantly.

"Then a bit cold? I was hoping you'd feel a little better by now, but I can sleep fine without blankets."

"Not cold, either."

"Then," he said, drawing himself fully erect in his bed, "Why are you shivering?"

"Because I can!" she snapped.

The Latios frowned at her. "Did you have a bad dream again?"

"Why, yes, I did!" She huffed indignantly and fell back onto her bed. "And if you would so kindly leave me alone, it would help!"

_Keep it down, would you? We're not the only ones here,_ she heard in her head. A quick glance to the left revealed that Sirius stared at her expectantly.

She rolled her eyes. _Fine. Now _please_ leave me alone before I give you a reason to._

_Night_. Her brother grumbled out loud before resting his head back onto the pillow.

Siria did the same, only to find herself pulling herself up once again. She didn't find it particularly odd that she couldn't sleep right after such an unnerving dream, but it was... A quick reference to the clock said that it was quite early in the morning.

As her mind returned to depressing thoughts about death and insanity, she thought of something when she looked at her brother. Perhaps with his medic training, he could diagnose her...?

_Sirius._

He snored.

_SIRIUS!_

_ "_What?" he groaned as he rose once again from his sleep. "Siria, what do you-" He paused mid-sentence. _Siria, what do you want? One minute you're screaming at me to go to bed and the next you want me back awake? What gives? And it's three in the-_

_ Sirius. How well were you trained in diagnosing trauma? _she asked directly.

_What kind of trauma? Blast trauma? Penetration trauma? Blun-_

_ Psychological._

_ Psychological? I'm combat, not therapist, so no. But,_ he asked as he turned a critical eye towards her, _Why are you asking for a psychologist?_

_ No reason,_ she fibbed.

He shifted to get a better look at her. _No reason, you say. No reason at all. You have a bad dream and suddenly you're asking for a psychologist. Don't play me as a fool, sis._ His thought-speech had a warning edge to it.

She bristled defensively. The Latias was really looking for someone to talk to, but Shadrach wasn't here, and she was always leery of confiding anything in her brother ever since _that_ incident. _It's nothing, honestly._

As if having read her mind (she didn't put him past it), he replied, _You can tell me. I'm listening._

_ Well..._

_ C'mon, sis. It's gonna eat you alive if you don't get it out now._

_ Fine. Where do I even start?_ she asked rhetorically. _The dream, right. Well, do you want to know what happened?_

The Latios nodded.

_Are you sure?_

Another nod.

_Essentially... Aiden, that Typhlosion from earlier, came and... killed Shadrach, you, and father... and later destroyed the Soul Dew from father's body._

In the darkness, she could see her brother's eyes glow a faint white. _He _what? _He did that to us? To dad- the Soul Dew?_

She nodded glumly. _It was the worst dream I've had in a long time. It scared me, to see you dead. It really did._

_ Let me guess,_ he thought trying to inject a little humor in the situation, _I don't want a mental picture of this._

_ I can give-_

_ Noooooo thanks._ He shook his head and slipped out of bed. Siria felt the cool breeze coming from outside as he opened the solitary window of the room. _Sis, when did these dreams start? You never tell me._

_ After the mission in the woods, when I nearly got raped by that Glaceon,_ she thought coldly.

_Right, after you almost got r-_ She sensed a immense anger rise from the Latios' mind; it was huge, nearly suffocating. _Do you think_, he suggested a bit more calmly, _that may have been it?_

She narrowed her eyes. _I wouldn't doubt it. _

Sirius stood looking out the window, shaking his head softly. _If I was there when he had taken a shot at you..._ He glared fiercely out at the blankly dark sky.

_The government would give you honors and accolades rather than expelling the both of us from the military_, she thought, laughing into the relatively silent air.

The Latios hummed. _But why did they have to kick us out in the first place? Why? It was totally unfair. All of the evidence was on your side. Everything was going smoothly._

_ Money,_ she replied. _The side that has the most money wins, especially if they can line the pockets of those politicians. It doesn't matter what we do; as long as they can bribe enough 'mon, they win._

_ Yeah, but still..._

_ At least you put him in his place,_ Siria thought with a smile. _Though it might have been a bit extreme_...

_I don't feel that putting him in a coma was extreme enough. If I wanted to do extreme, I would have started with chaining him up-_

Siria could see exactly what he had planned out for the unfortunate 'mon in his mind, and immediately cleared the image from her mind. The machinations he envisioned already outdid what the Typhlosion had showed her by a mile, and she suspected that he was just getting started. _You don't need to tell me, Sirius. I know. I know._

Both of them remained stationary in their positions, both contemplating the events of years past. Then, Sirius sighed slightly.

_Could that... could that be why you're having these thoughts? You had the exact same conditions when it happened back then as you do now. The bad dreams, the depression..._

She opened her maw for a moment. _That... _The explanation was sound; it definitely made much sense, especially when put in context. _But I eventually recovered from that,_ she pointed out. _Will I recover from this?_

_Well, if you really need to, we can go to a psychologist, but something tells me that you wouldn't like that, _he thought with a wry smile.

_No. No, I wouldn't._

_ So you'll try to figure out on your own, huh?_

She looked over at his silhouette. _Yes_.

Another silence fell between them as they each now gave thought to the present. It was a lot of information to digest, after all.

Sirius then decided to break the 'silence.' _Anything else you want to tell me, sis?_

"Hmm..." She thought for a moment; did she want to discuss what she dreamed about her father, or the now-conflicting thoughts she had regarding him? No, it wouldn't do to have someone so close to her father knowing of her internal debate. The last thing she wanted to reveal was that she was weak on the inside, though confessing to her spiraling depressing and bad dreams all but obliterated that remote possibility. _No, nothing else right now_.

The Latios visibly relaxed as he returned to his bed. _Well, just tell me if anything's on your mind. I'm here for you for real, you know? Not just to poke fun at you, though that _is _fun sometimes._

_Of course it is,_ she thought with a snort. But for one of the few times in her life, she also felt truly grateful for having such a brother. _And I will, Sirius. Night._

As her brother turned into his bed once again, she herself slid back into her sheets. She had a new goal in mind apart from psychoanalyzing her dream: sleep. As she stared out the window, she knew it would be a difficult task for her to accomplish.

* * *

"Open the hatch." Shadrach watched as the giant landing dock lowered and hit the soft sand below the helicopter's belly. They were theoretically in the middle of nowhere, twenty klicks from Riyaq and Arceus knows how far from their target. Fortunately, they wouldn't be marching the rest of the way. _No, _he thought as he looked at the two ATVs loaded in the main bay of the large helicopter, _we're going in style._

The plan was simple enough. They would first drive near the outskirts of the village where nobody could hear them; from there, they would infiltrate the targeted compound and capture the Nidoking. If he did not come peacefully, they would use tranquilizers powerful enough to flat-out knock a Groudon unconscious and transport him back to where a similar transport helicopter would rendezvous with them. It was the perfect stealth mission; with Mirunas constantly monitoring the area, any slight hint of military action there would probably cause a giant political debacle, at the very least. The ATVs, relatively soundless compared to the thunder of a transport helicopter, offered them a way of inconspicuous infiltration and exfiltration. Additionally, the major was able to get two Skarmory to provide overwatch security, though communications with them would be limited. Nobody knew if the Mirunas military was watching radio transmissions over the area.

"Alright, let's get these running." Shadrach stepped to the left of an ATV, helping the Leafeon there undo one of the cables prevented the vehicle from bouncing around in-flight. Behind them, Levina, Din, and Nuwai worked the ties on the other one.

He gingerly rolled it out the back of the helicopter and gave the ATV a lookover. The sandy-gray paint appealed to him, thought it wouldn't quite matter at this time of night; from a distance, everything looked black. As he put it into neutral, he saw Levina and Din out of the corner of her eye on the other. Having already gotten the engine running, the Ampharos gave him a terse nod.

Shadrach jammed the starter on his own ATV, and was promptly rewarded with a low-pitched rumble. "Ready?" he asked the Leafeon behind him.

"Ready!" Jul responded energetically.

With no further ado, both of the ATVs revved out into the darkness of the desert, followed by a fast, low-flying Garchomp.


	28. Casualties

Well, life tackled me down and basically mauled me. My apologies. Hopefully the longer chapter will partially redeem me, for any readers who're still sticking around.

* * *

Chapter 28: Casualties

Surveying the area around a small, single-story house, Shadrach held his right paw up. The gear of the other soldiers clanked slightly as they halted and pressed themselves into the shadows of the current building they hid against.

"That it?" Jul asked as he chambered a round in his rifle.

"Yeah." Shadrach eyed the rather plain, rectangular building right out in the open. He could envision the interior in his mind's eye from reviewing the floor plans over and over and over again. He owed it to his squadmembers, especially Din, to not have a single casualty in the operation. But despite its relative simpleness, there was still a high chance of someone getting injured.

"He's gonna pay for what he did to the Army," Levina said aggressively. "Just lead them and turn tail when we strike. What a coward."

Din looked out depressingly at the house. "Are we going to stack up-"

The crack of a gunshot caused them to take defensive measures. Three of them dropped on their stomachs; the other two knelt down and sighted their rifles in, ready to dispatch any threats that came their way.

None of their preparations were necessary. Hardly seconds after the first shot, several louder reports cracked in response to the first. The next thing they knew, rounds were cooking on both sides of a gunfight.

"What's going on?" Nuwai asked, not daring to move even a bit.

"Looks like we got some opfors at the entrance of the village," a voice said into their headsets. Shadrach immediately assumed them to be their Skarmory overwatch. _This has to be good for them to break radio silence_. "But hey, what, they're both wearing the same uniform, an-"

"Cut the chatter, Tack," a more senior voice chided. "There are about thirty tangos and eight pickup trucks, technicals with fifty cals in the back. From what we saw, one of the insurgents at the gate held up the trucks before he and the driver got into a confrontation of some sort. Next thing we know, another 'mon in the back of the truck shot the guard in the head. Now they're in the middle of a fight of some sort. Both of them are wearing the same uniform, and we don't have any infiltration missions currently underway in this area. Advising that you approach with caution."

The first Skarmory pitched in again. "Yeah, like what Overseer said, they're in some mighty pissing match, and we have no idea-"

"Quiet, Tack. But yes, we don't know whether these are insurgents or something else, or why they're killing their own troops right now. Keep careful. We'll keep you posted on their movements. Out."

Shadrach frowned as he tried to analyze the situation. Why would the opfor stage an attack on their own, especially in a nondescript place as this? Even though Tamsus was a rouge organization at best, its members were above backstabbing each other, as much as he hated to admit it. It could be the locals who had dressed up as insurgents, though the main issue with that was that it was those who had pulled up who had started the shooting. Then, the ones in the pickup trucks could possibly be an outside group fighting for the village back-

A great explosion arose from the opposite boundaries, flames of the fire licking the dark plume of smoke rising upwards. Shadrach felt the heat of it even though he was half a mile away.

"They're torching the buildings!" Tack exclaimed. "They're going from house to house and burning them down!"

Overseer made no attempt to temper his partner's commentary. "The arrived insurgents are destroying everything bit by bit. It looks like they're searching for someone." Shadrach heard the loud whistle of wind in the headset. "Arceus, if you're going to carry out this mission, do it now! We can't shift around the darkness forever! They're going to see us!"

The Umbreon grunted in response, clearly noticing the strain in his contact's voice. So apparently both sides had malign intent, meaning that he couldn't rely on either. The suggestion that they were "searching for someone" briefly reminded him of their target, but he dismissed the idea immediately. Why would they want to search for him, anyways?

"Shadrach." Levina pointed at the building. "Are we going to do it or not?"

"Give me a minute to think."

Levina's rebuttal was cut short by a spurt from the headset. "Shit, I think they saw us!"

"Shadrach, now or never!" the Ampharos said heatedly. She reached for the shotgun strapped on her back.

He shook his head in frustration. The time flew by too fast; he couldn't analyze or think or do _anything_, he noticed, but physically act on a decision. "Alright, let's move it," he said quietly, rushing out into the small space that distanced their shelter and target.

"Stack." Shadrach stopped short of the door, instead looking behind him at the three others who had came up behind him. Levina had stealthily moved to the other side of the door. Her shotgun was leveled at the rusted, discolored doorknob.

"Three," he said.

"Two."

"One."

The shotgun lurched back as the buckshot rounds reduced the wood around the doorknob to dust. Shadrach entered first, sweeping his rifle muzzle right to see if any threats were ready to complain about their entrance. There were none to be found, so he immediately trained his sights on the doorway leading into the next room.

Within ten seconds the Special Forces 'mon were already sneaking up on the next room. This one appeared to have someone in it; Shadrach saw the faint glow of what he assumed to be a computer screen.

"Flash bang," he whispered, "whenever." Nuwai pulled the pin from one of the long, thin grenades and immediately threw it into the next room, angling it off the the wall adjacent to the door in order to get it deep within the room.

Hardly a millisecond after the ringing explosion, Shadrach rushed into the next room, immediately sighting in to see a Nidoking behind a Protect barrier. He started to let the bullets fly after switching to automatic.

Nuwai decided to take the aggressive route. She flew in fast and hard, trying to use a Dragon Rush to break the barrier. The attack succeeded at first, blowing both the thin barrier and half the wall to the right to pieces, only for the Nidoking to readjust his position and form another one right after.

"Hold your fire!" Shadrach yelled, rushing at the Nidoking as the others ceased attacking. _I need a pattern,_ he thought as they grew larger in his vision. _In, out, in, out..._

_Now!_ As the Garchomp surged back and the Nidoking Protected again, Shadrach lunged forth at the barrier, shadowy shroud enveloping his entire body. The Quick Attack gave him the timing to slip right in front of the Nidoking before he Protected once more.

"Nuwai!" he roared as he pressed a blade to his throat. The dragon complied, surging down and landing straight on the Nidoking as Shadrach quickly moved back. Despite the poison-type's strength, Nuwai had the advantage of surprise, and was able to quickly force his arms behind his back.

The Nidoking offered little resistance to the rough treatment. Instead, he only turned his head to look up at those who had assaulted his home. "What business do you have with me?" he asked plainly.

"You know damn well what business you have with us," Levina said. She drew a long, rather hazardous-looking syringe from her pack. "To be honest, this is going to hurt the least, considering all that you've done to us."

"All that I've done to you?"

"Don't play dumb. You're responsible for the blood of everybody who died in Riyaq."

"Riyaq?"

She gave him a hard right punch. "Arceus, how dumb are you? I-"

"Levina, the injection," Shadrach reminded smartly.

"Oh." She looked at him a little sheepishly before giving her syringe a sharp stare. "Well, now..."

Before she could position her needle, a voice from the computer squawked. "Command, we're getting slaughtered out here!" someone yelled over the speaker. "They sent all special attackers! We can't hold for much longer, Lyall! Are there reinforcements?"

"Keep going," the Nidoking said to a microphone fixed to the table, much to everyone's surprise. His gaze was fixed on the screen, what Shadrach observed to actually be a large number of camera feeds. Some of them showed 'mon stuck in firefights; others were completely blacked out. All of them, though, indicated that the defense was obviously losing.

"They're too good! All of our Light Screeners are dead already! We're trying to flank their side right now! But I think that if we get that damn Typhlosion we'll be fine! He's the one tearing through us!"

The Nidoking, in a mighty show of force, broke easily from Nuwai's grip and seized the mic. "Wait! Don't attack him! Don't-"

"What the- why is he glowing white? He's glowing white, and now he's on fire, and he's charging, oh Arce-"

A deafening roar later, all that poured from the speaker was a static hiss. Shadrach looked outside a window to see a giant corona of light arise from the buildings half a mile away.

"Holy _shit_," Tack reported over the headset. "There was this 'mon down there who looked like a Ho-Oh from hell who just streaked down a path all bright and shit! He got like ten 'mon in that blast, Arceus knows how many civvies, everything's on fire, and-"

"We advise that you get the fuck out of there, Alpha Team. The defenders are not going to survive for much longer," his partner said more directly. "But we're not leaving until you are. We're trusting you with out lives here."

"I read you," Shadrach tersely said. Their safety wasn't the the main thing preoccupying his mind, though. What he had just heard was far more intriguing: an extremely powerful Typhlosion who supposedly ripped apart several defenders with some overpowered attack visible from that far away. He didn't doubt for a second that something like that could rip any of them to shreds in an instant.

Perhaps their safety should be a priority, after all.

He turned to look at the Nidoking. The poison-type suddenly shoved past them to the door. Nuwai made an attempt to arrest his movement, but seemed to restrain him with the force of an infant.

Shadrach and Levina exchanged glances before the former raised his rifle at the poison-type, who was almost out the door. "Halt."

"For what? For you to shoot me? Why don't you let me go and kill him? If you don't, I'll have no choice but to kill you first." He turned around to give them a hard stare.

The Umbreon tensed at the threat before gripping his rifle a bit harder. "Really."

"That Garchomp is strong, but I broke her hold on me like nothing. That megalomaniac of a Typhlosion gave me enough experimental drugs to stockpile a hospital or two," he said disgustedly. "Some of them work, like enhanced speed, but others? Mutations at best." He raised his lengthy tail to reveal two fins spreading from it, much like Nuwai's. The next moment, to Shadrach's utter disbelief, it extended and struck through the plaster wall right next to his head. "But I won't kill you. That is not my goal tonight."

The Umbreon stared at the tail right next to him, well aware that it could have punched his head out if it had moved a foot to the right. He hadn't even _seen_ the damn thing...

"Wait," Levina said carefully as the purple tail withdrew. "If you're so damn powerful, why are you out there with them defending?"

He gave her a simple look. "If you knew that you were under the command of a mutated, deformed, hideous beast, would you still follow him? Would you still trust him with your life?"

"Point," she said, obviously not expecting a cogent response. Then: "You _are_ Tamsus, right?" Arceus forbid if they hit the wrong target...

"No, no," he said in response. "I am Tamsus, or... well, I wish I no longer had the honor of bearing that tarnished name. They just feel that my service and duty are..." He smiled wryly. "Not required any longer."

"And they are attacking you why? What the hell's going on here?" the Ampharos protested. Shadrach gave her a quick nod. _That's right. Keep him talking._

The Nidoking smirked. "They're attacking me because they don't like me anymore. They don't appreciate that I grew Tamsus from its infancy to the great institution it was years ago. They don't appreciate the leadership I supplied, the insight I gave. They've turned to someone else they think more 'worthy' of praise, someone-"

"So wait," Din said, shoving Shadrach aside. "You're responsible for Tamsus existing. You're responsible for killing everybody back in the Drakes. You killed them. You killed them all, everybody I know. And then you killed a few more in Riyaq, just for kicks! Why, I-"

Jul caught the Vaporeon as he lunged forward at the poison-type. "Din, control yourself," he said calmly, although his conflicted expression belied any possibility of actually being "calm."

"But-"

"Hold on. I don't want to put a Leaf Blade in your back."

"He killed them!" he exclaimed hysterically, throwing a fist into empty air. "He killed Talal! He killed Ward! I'm going to beat that motherfuck-"

The Leafeon looked at Levina. "Do you still have that tranquilizer?

Din stopped moving for a moment. He glared at his brother as he fell limp in his hold. "Fuck you guys. He's responsible. He killed our friends, and you're going to stop me from getting him? What the hell, Jul? The fuck is this shit, Levina? You're going to tranquilize your own squadmate but not your enemy?"

"There's a time and place for everything, Din," Shadrach said with a gesture of his paw. "Now is not the time for anger."

The Nidoking looked out the door for a minute. The horizon was no longer black, but tinted a faint yellow. He whipped his large, purple tail up and down, still leaving them all especially wary of him. "Now, if I could defend myself," he said with a slight chuckle, not turning back to face any of them. "I was not at Riyaq that night. A slight misinformation campaign, wouldn't you know it? Of course, no intelligence officer would have cared. No, my name has gone absent for far too long."

"Name?" the Umbreon asked guardedly.

The poison-type turned his head. "Wouldn't you know it. Would you believe, for example, that I am - well, was - second in command of Tamsus? I'm sure none of that information came up at all; I'd be surprised if anyone outside of your intelligence department knew of it."

"What the he- second in command?" Levina asked. "What fresh bullshit is this?" Shadrach simply narrowed his eyes, trying to remember if there had been _anything_ ever brought up about a second-in-command of Tamsus. He thought hard, but no memories surfaced.

He shook his purple head sadly. "Yes, second in command. Before any of you were even military-ready, I was the one who your government sought to annihilate. I even felt a little proud to be in your nation's newspapers as the number one. But that Typhlosion, that Aiden... what a bastard."

It hit Shadrach then. That presentation the Luxray gave all the way back at FOB Archer how long ago? He had held up two cards, one of which was a Typhlosion, the other a-

"So you're him! The last two in the deck!"

He smiled in response. "Yes, the last two in the so-called deck. Isn't it so peculiar that Aiden is the only one you encountered? The only one the Halcyian Defense sought to target, until you accidentally ran into him? He was the one in the crosshairs, and yet he has done more to cripple us than actually help."

"Crosshairs? What crosshairs? We never had policy targeting you two." Shadrach immediately caught himself from going further. _Shit, did I just really reveal that to a Tamsus insurgent?_

"So special, and yet so naive. You will see, Umbreon, you will see." The Nidoking watched unperturbed as another explosion ripped farther out in the city. "I'm honestly surprised that they have not arrived yet, but that's fine. It's more time for talking."

"Some rather special units have had a bounty on Aiden for quite some time, and ignored little old me. A shame, I know, but there are reasons. Wouldn't you find it strange, for example, that in the space of three years, Tamsus lost what it took nearly two decades to occupy?"

Shadrach tensed, but said nothing. The fact that the Nidoking could kill any one of them at once was not something easily removed from his mind.

"You probably know that we were a very powerful force. I can see the veteran look in your eyes. You fought us when we were in our prime, and when Halcyia was actually a nation mobilized for war. We used to possess a quarter of the entire nation, even going as far as to institute our own government and economic system! We were going to teach the Halcyian government that they couldn't support minorities one day for their own agenda and dump them on the wayside the next! Do you know that's how they got all of that international aid decades ago? They portrayed us in the south as starving and poor, and as soon as they got the money, those politicians just spent it on themselves! I wonder, do you know this, or do your history books not teach that?" he asked. A tinge of anger colored his otherwise unemotional voice.

"I know nothing of the sort," the Umbreon replied. He didn't care too much for the discourse, more focused on trying to find a gap in the Nidoking's movements so he could attempt an attack on him.

"Of course they don't. Let the good deeds be heralded and the bad let go and lost. You wonder why you have a rebellion, an insurgency." The poison-type caught himself. "Well, not an insurgency until now. Twenty years ago, you could have called it a civil war. You privileged Halcyians had the technology and hardware, but we had the strategies and tactics."

He sighed and shook his head. "But Arceus, that all crumbled. Could you believe that one 'mon was responsible behind all of this? Aiden and his damn ambitions?"

Shadrach perked his ears at this.

"He was some young commander who rose up the ranks because he was good as what he is: a manipulative bastard. He apparently didn't like the way I was leading Tamsus, through superior strategy. No, he was a young bastard, a newfangled technologist. He wanted weapons that would rival theirs instead of outwitting them, the idiot. Unfortunately, many of our recruits were also young, so they bought into his argument. I held my water with the seniors and veterans, but they all eventually died, no thanks to Halcyia, and the brainwashed became our new insurgents."

"Alpha Team." Their headsets crackled to life. "The defense has been annihilated," Overseer said somberly. "They're going door to door now, torching every building they come across now. At the rate at which they're coming, there's three or four minutes left before we exfiltrate."

"Wait," Shadrach barked back at him, causing the Nidoking to halt. "What do you mean, exfiltrate? You're gong to abandon us?"

"Frankly speaking, if they get there, you all are dead. There's too many of them."

_So we're stuck between a homicidal group of insurgents and a ranting maniac of a general. Great._

"They didn't give a damn about what atrocities he committed in the lab or how many of Arceus' laws he violated; all they were obsessed with was using superior firepower to 'win' back their rights. At that point, what rights could they even have? Aiden bastardized the government, making a dictatorship out of a direct democracy. We lost any citizens we could even had hoped of influencing."

"The only 'redeeming' quality I had with the insurgency was the fact that I was a founding member, so that was the only reason I was put on equal footing with Aiden. Of course, that meant my policy didn't have its fully effect. Aiden may have been good at manipulation, but his strategy was absolutely terrible. His little series of troop movements and attacks created the vacuum that allowed Halcyia to regain and strike out at us. Look at Riyaq. We lost that city because Aiden hadn't deployed an extra brigade there two days ago when he should have! A moron! An Arceus-damned moron! A blithering idiot!"

In his anger, the Nidoking burrowed his tail into the floor. As it drilled into the earth, Shadrach shot the others a look and flipped his rifle's safety off. All of them crouched to attack-

"All because of Shadow." The phrase caught Shadrach so surprisingly that he tripped into the ground when he leaned forward.

Not that it would have helped. Once the Nidoking saw Jul flanking to his left, the tail came up impossibly fast and belted the grass-type in the stomach. It dispatched Nuwai as well, striking her in the chest and sending her crashing into Din.

"Shadow," he repeated as if he had noticed none of what just happened. "The mystical weapon, the surefire path to success. Oh, what fools were they to buy into that! The poor, poor fools. When Shadow reaches its peak, they will have no idea what hit them. Hell, the world won't know what to do."

"Wait," Shadrach said, curiosity suddenly aroused by the subject. He had returned himself to a standing position, albeit after his face burning for what felt like forever. "What peak?"

The Nidoking's eyes flashed. "Do you really wish to know?" he asked solemnly.

Shadrach debated mentally. It wasn't part of the mission plans; it was a direct action, not intelligence, not to mention that they were hardly minutes away from being incinerated by hostiles. But an apparent defector was offering him what was obviously game-changing data, and he could not help but naturally be interested by the subject. His trustworthiness was questionable, but everything he had said up to now appeared to be the truth. Besides, he was being tracked down by his own organization, meaning that he has nothing to lose by releasing the information...

He nodded once.

The Nidoking sighed and walked back into the other room, path unobstructed by any of the Special Forces soldiers. He returned with a disc encased in a jet-black case. The casing read, "Ein File S."

"This is all the research I have performed regarding Shadow. Most of it was stealing Aiden's papers, I must admit; I understand little of what is contained in there. Well, that is, if I remembered it."

The Umbreon stared cryptically at him.

"As soon as I compiled the disc, I had a psychic-type friend (who is dead now, sadly; Aiden murdered him) wipe my mind of anything related to the subject. If he found the disc, it would be encrypted beyond hope; he would have simply given up. Back then, I was afraid of Aiden catching me and finding a way to terminate my position. Now, that is a naive thought, as I sit here waiting for my own men to capture me. Or that's what they hope, at least. I will give them a rude awakening."

"Hey, hold up," Levina said as Shadrach took the case from him. "If you got your mind wiped, that means that you don't remember the password."

"That would be correct."

"How the hell are we supposed to get the data off the disc?"

"Ah, that. Well, there is a little I remember that may help." He opened his mouth again, only to close it when a bright white light filled his door. An explosion followed as pieces of mortar and brick rained down on the ground before them.

"They're converging! Get outta there, dammit!" their headsets buzzed. "You're not gonna last!"

The poison-type bowed his head. "Well, friend, the time comes. As for the disc, there are hints." He smiled humorously, as if it was all a giant joke.

Then his countenance turned gravely serious. "You had best be leaving. Your mission objective is to capture me, and I am sorry to report that it is a failure. The next best thing you can do is get yourself out of this alive. Your Skarmory overwatch has the right idea."

Shadrach growled. "How did you know that?"

"It happens. Now, there's a back door that you can-"

He paused as the roar of several motors filled the air. A white pickup truck, paint tarnished by smears of dirt and blood, halted several feet before the door. A gunner pointed a heavy machine gun straight at them.

"Back door?" Din asked, crossing his arms.

"Lyall!" the gunner called. "It's best that you surrender!"

"For what?" he roared back. "For you to execute me? I'll die before that happens."

That was apparently all the answer the 'mon needed. He pulled back the charging handle on the machine gun and depressed the trigger.

Shadrach couldn't see much when he leaped to dodge, but what played out before was nothing short of astounding. He first saw the Nidoking glow a dim white before Protecting, appearing to put hardly an effort in blocking the rounds. Lyall then punched the ground with his fist, releasing a giant fissure that raced out at the pickup truck. White energy flared from the cracks, leading straight into its intended target. The truck's occupants had hardly a prayer before the attack consumed the vehicle whole, heat-flashing the paint clean off the body before consuming it in a tremendous explosion.

"The fuck is happening? The hell? Alpha Team, respond!"

"We're fine!" Shadrach said through gritted teeth. "Just get us intel on a LZ-"

"What are you waiting for? Go!" the poison-type roared as he demolished an entire wall with a Brick Break. The gunner in the truck behind it had hardly a moment to swerve the gun before a giant tail lashed out at the cab, immediately caving it in with a massive blow before jerking upwards to pierce the gunner's body. Shadrach felt droplets of blood pepper his face as the tail whipped back to a more normal length.

He gave the wall a single look before roaring, "Move, move!" He rounded the corner with his rifle at the ready. The primary objective now was to escape alive, and to do that, he needed to find the ATVs-

... which laid in a burning heap of metal and rubber, right next to a pickup truck. He could see that its driver, a Magmar, was obviously terrified, clutching the steering wheel as if his life depended on it. Shadrach suspected that it probably did.

Levina, having immediately analyzed the situation. darted to flank Shadrach's right. She shot three consecutive bursts of Thunder Wave at the truck, putting all of its passengers into instant paralysis. It took Shadrach a second to process what exactly she intended before following her closely.

She opened the truck's door and dragged the two motionless 'mon out, dumping them on the ground. Jul, who Shadrach hadn't seen before, kicked the machine gunner straight off and took the turret gun into his hands, performing all of the weapon checks in a matter of seconds before swiveling to find targets of opportunity. Din jumped onto the truck bed next to Jul as Shadrach quickly got into the passenger's seat. Nuwai extended her fins for full flight, directing a hurried gaze at Levina that asked, "When?"

"Hit it!" Shadrach yelled. They both ducked as a bullet pierced the rear window, spraying them with glass shards.

He immediately lurched back as Levina slammed her foot on the accelerator, going from zero to sixty in Arceus knows how fast. Jul brought the decades-old machine gun to life as he indiscriminately shot at anything that moved. The Garchomp trailed behind, hugging as closely to the ground as possible.

"Alright, we got your LZ. Start moving north as soon as you can. We'll follow and update as you go along."

"What?" Levina snapped back. "It's not like we have a motherfucking compass in here- oh, shit-"

Shadrach banged his head on the glass window as the Ampharos made a hard left. He saw that the Nidoking's attack from earlier had passed through where their truck had been a moment prior, releasing an earthshaking roar that left him deaf for several seconds. As the truck raced away into the sandy plains, the Umbreon turned to see another truck erupt in a bright orange fireball. A silhouetted figure jumped impossibly high out of the explosion, burning fire on its back glowing brightly as it immediately surged down at the Nidoking far below. Jul roared, unloading a full barrage of fifty cal rounds at the battlers.

"Stop, dammit," the Umbreon hissed to the back. The red tracers shone clearly in the night, and if the enemy watched them carefully enough, they could figure out where the truck was.

As the Nidoking unleashed an attack that Shadrach could see even from half a mile away, the shadow leaped upwards again and seemed to face them for a moment. The Umbreon was first puzzled, then shocked to see a fireball suddenly materialize from what he assumed was the silhouette's mouth and hurtle at them. He could see Nuwai quickly dart away from the rapidly accelerating attack.

"Levina! Turn right! Right!" he yelled.

The Ampharos was too busy to hear him, though. "You really want us to go that far!" she said exasperatedly over the mic. "I don't even know how much more we can get out of this shitcan!"

Shadrach reached over and ripped the headset off her head. "Levina!" he roared. "Right!"

"The fuck do you want?" she snarled in return. "I'm a little bu-"

The retort withered in her throat as something bright and yellow shone in the rearview mirror. She dropped her jaw for a moment before slamming the steering wheel all the way right, hoping that she would be able to avoid the impact.

The fireball exploded on the ground right behind the small, white pickup truck, lifting it straight off its hind wheels and sending it cartwheeling out into the desert. Shadrach saw stars as his head first impacted on the roof of the truck, then on the dashboard. The cacophony of shattering glass and screeching metal afforded him little opportunity to hear the condition of the other three, but as his vision temporarily blacked out, he suspected that it was not good.

After the seventh cartwheel, the truck seemed to stand perfectly on its fender, then groaned as it toppled backwards, lying upside down.

Shadrach let out an almighty groan and opened his eyes. Although piecing together what exactly happened was but a futile effort, the pain coursing throughout his body told him that would be wearing bruises all over his body for the next several weeks. He wouldn't be surprised if a few major bones were broken as well.

But those injuries became marginal as he turned to face Levina. She was unconscious, face smashed into the steering wheel whose air bag, Shadrach noticed, had not deployed as it should have. Blood streamed from her temple, and several gouges on her face, etched deeply from shattered glass, too let blood drip downwards.

The Umbreon's breathing constricted slightly. "Levina," he said.

The yellow body, streaked red, said nothing.

He grunted as he tried to force the passenger door ajar. No such luck. It was contorted in such a manner that even a Machamp would be hard-pressed to return it to its original form. He looked to the completely shattered front window, but his body was entrapped in the seat.

Shadrach sighed slightly. He was never one for strength or attacking, for that matter. Almost his entire service in his squad had been strategical or weapons-oriented; he didn't have the brunt of the attacks that Siria, Sirius, or Levina carried. Now he didn't have a choice but to force his way out, something that he didn't look forward to.

He tried to move the best he could in his heavily restricted seat. The last thing he wanted was for his Toxic to give him acrid burns. Ironically, the attack would injure him even though he was the one using it; only true poison-types were immune to their own attacks.

Feeling the slightly poisonous droplets coat his short, stubby claws, Shadrach swiped twice at where he suspected the door's locking mechanism to be. The metal instantly hissed on contact, giving off n bitter smell as the acid began to dissolve the lock. After a moment, he tried to nudge the door ajar, but it still held fast. He cursed and swiped now at the charred, blackened hinges of the door. Those too hissed and dissolved, but the door hardly budged.

He gave the Ampharos a look before scoring the top of the door. If he couldn't budge his way out, he would cut.

That seemed to do the trick. The door seemed to peel off the truck, kicking up dust as it fell to the sand. Shadrach weakly followed, clambering out onto the sandy ground.

He immediately wished he hadn't. His body felt like it was on fire; pain coursed through every nerve and culminated in his conscience, angrily telling him to give up and rest for a while. He ignored it, though, and grunted as he started to crawl to the other side of the truck. As he passed the flatbed of the truck, he noticed that both Din and Jul were absent. They were thrown off in the first two tumbles, he guessed. Who knew if they survived? They probably didn't.

He had reached the driver's door, which was miraculously intact. With no small amount of effort, he reached up and opened it.

The Umbreon couldn't help but scream as Levina's body tumbled on top of him. He thought he had felt pain before; he was utterly wrong. He could feel her breathing, though. That was good.

A figure flying overhead landed before the two. Nuwai stared at them, putting a claw to her mouth in astonishment.

"Nuwai," Shadrach rasped. "Take... take Levina... wait, are the others alive?"

She nodded once and pointed into the distance. "They're resting all the way over there."

"Can you take Levina there? I'll... I'll get there myself."

Shadrach began to crawl inch by inch as the Garchomp picked Levina up and flew back out. He wouldn't stand for it, to be rendered absolutely helpless in this state. For Arceus' sake, he was Special Forces, he could make it-

He coughed as something from above grabbed him off the ground. He turned to protest, but found none of the energy to do. All that lingered was a tremendous fatigue as Nuwai set him down besides three other injured soldiers. Din wore a set of minor cuts and bruises, looking far better than any of the others. He anxiously watched Jul, whose legs were bent at a very unnatural angle.

"Does anyone have a radio on them?" Shadrach asked, guessing that their Romeo Team had probably left for base as soon as they did. "We need to call..."

He sighed as all who were still conscious shook their heads. The Umbreon wasn't surprised, though; he'd be damned if anything electronic got through the collective hell they'd all just been put through. "So we're stuck in the middle of fucking hostile territory, two of us are unconscious... or worse, and we have no means of contacting anybody for an extract. Our only hope is for the Romeo Team to tell base that they lost sight of us, and rescue units won't get to us before dawn. I mean, Arceus, what a clusterfuck. This is great. Just _fucking _great!" He went into a fit of coughing, forgetting how dry and brittle his throat was.

Din handed him a canteen full of water. The Umbreon looked at the container, then at the Vaporeon.

"Did you fill this?"

"Yeah."

Shadrach looked back at canteen. By drinking this, he was by proxy drinking Din's spit...

"Fuck it," he said, nearly draining a fourth of the container with his first drink. He knew that as a battle-hardened SF soldier, he should be tolerant of drinking mud if it was absolutely necessary, but some obsessive, sanitary part of him wouldn't allow him to do so. Of course, his being intensively wounded made him care less about the small things in life, such as not using the word "fuck" twenty fucking times in a single fucking sentence.

After a refreshing (as much as he hated to admit it) drink, Shadrach immediately set out on analyzing their situation. They could expect to see something akin to an extract in a minimum of two hours, so they would need to secure a perimeter and defend themselves until then. The best way to do this would be to become shadows in the desert, completely invisible until they heard the vestiges of a helicopter's thunder or an aircraft's roar.

The burning pickup truck definitely wasn't a good way of starting off this strategy. Shadrach turned to Din, and was about to ask him to put it out when he heard a haunting sound: the low-pitched growl of an engine.

Turning towards the source, Shadrach saw not a pickup truck but instead a jeep, desert gold camouflage colors slightly illuminated by its powerful headlights. He immediately ruled that it was not a Halcyian Defense vehicle; their variants had closed roof, whereas this was open. He widened his eyes at the grave possibility that Tamsus was coming by to say hi...

... and went completely pale as he saw a crested head - a Lugia head - on the grill. He had to rub his eyes and blink to make sure he wasn't deceiving himself - if that was a Mirunas vehicle, then they had fucked up beyond redemption. If that really _was_ a jeep Mirunas had deployed, that would mean that they had crossed the border in their escape from the village, violating numerous treaties Halcyia had with the belligerent nation. By entering the border as Halcyian Defense members, they had essentially declared war on Mirunas.

Shadrach's mind raced, thinking of any possible way to avert what was probably going to be one of the most disastrous political ordeals in recent history. He looked at himself - cut, scarred, and bleeding - then to the others, who were in no better shape. Innovative as he was supposed to be at planning to surmount the impossible, he saw no ray of hope, no sliver of light that would allow any of them out of this situation. He sighed and fell back on the sand, wondering how bad the food would taste in prison. _Would they even give us food?_

Apparently, the other conscious squadmembers had too seen the jeep. Nuwai, motivated more by determination than fear, leaped into the air, claws glowing blue. If the enemy was going to fuck with them, they were going to go through her first-

As the Garchomp weaved intricate patterns in the air to avoid the storm of bullets erupting from the back of the jeep, Din launched an Ice Beam at the wheels, hoping to disrupt their attack and halt their inevitable capture. The wheels appeared to lock up for a moment, but the forward momentum of the vehicle and Din's weakness shattered the hold the ice had on the jeep. The occupants did stop firing, though, until they had driven hardly ten feet from the Halcyian soldiers.

As the passenger door opened, a pair of worn boots hit the ground. Their owner, an old Houndoom, shifted his glasses to get a better look at those who had attracted his immediate attention. He frowned at the fatigues they wore and wondered at the battle damage afforded to them. They were definitely not Mirunas' soldiers, which meant...

With a wave of his paw, the other soldiers in the jeep surrounded the four Halcyians at gunpoint. None of them made an attempt to resist, all knowing that they had lost.

Nuwai thought differently, though. With nobody firing on her, she bared her teeth and began to angle downwards, unsheathing her claws in the process.

She hung in the air mid-flight when she saw the Houndoom prod Shadrach's head with a pistol. He looked upwards at the Garchomp and gave her an appraising look, as if daring her to continue the attack. She desisted, but remained aloft. He tapped the Umbreon's head again with the gun to signal his discontent.

Growling, she began her descent into the middle of the circle. Her face burned with shame; she had tried to thwart the enemy, only to fail and put even more stress on her allies. She saw the ground fast approaching, the Houndoom's curved horns, and then a sudden blue beam from the heavens that drilled a perfect one inch wide hole into the fire-type's cranium. The Garchomp jerked backwards in fright, not knowing what agent was responsible for the seemingly precise, perfect kill.

As the Mirunas soldiers quickly assumed defensive positions, another beam took a Camerupt in the chest, collapsing him without any resistance. The three remaining guards shot bewildered looks at each other before making a beeline for the jeep. They would much rather come out alive than hang around and figure out what was killing them.

None of them would emerge alive, though. As they ran, one lagged behind slightly. A completely dark figure dived from the sky, promptly breaking the Mirunas soldier's neck by hitting him in the back of the head at roughly the speed of a prop plane. The shadow then charged at one of the two left, who was working the passenger door of the jeep. The Flareon barely had the time to look up at the whistling sound before being clotheslined by a large black wing.

The last individual, a jittery Rapidash, started the ignition in the jeep. As he threw it into reverse, a blue beam, several times larger than the one that killed his comrades, pierced the hood with painstaking accuracy. The last thing the fire-type thought before being consumed by the explosion was how eerily perfect the circle the attack made was.

Stunned, the Halcyian soldiers didn't even try to make a move, knowing that whatever forces that dismantled the Mirunas squad could easily do the same to them. Shadrach warily watched the black figure approach them.

"Hey," the Staraptor said, flapping his wings once before folding them neatly into his back. "Are you Sergeant Shadrach?"

_Name, rank, serial number only_. "Shadrach Chase, Sergeant, HA234-"

"I don't need that info. C'mon, we're here to extract."

The Umbreon didn't trust the flying-type at all. For all he knew, this could all be a show of force from Mirunas. He repeated what he had said before.

The Staraptor groaned. "Oh, for the love of- Lorenzo, get down here!" he yelled upwards.

Straining his eyes, Shadrach saw a figure descend from what appeared to be above the clouds. The Dragonite zoomed downwards, hovering only inches from the ground as he looked at the two of them oddly. "Yes?"

"He's not trusting us."

"Oh?" Lorenzo chuckled. "If someone went up to you and called you by your name without telling you who or what they were, you would be suspicious too." He looked to the Umbreon, who merely returned a blank stare. "Hey, sorry about Maxwell; he's impulsive. I'm Major Lorenzo, Special Forces." He showed the patch on his arm to Shadrach. He eyed the fire-breathing Ho-Oh for a moment, searching for the various symbols that determined its legitimacy. For all he knew, the enemy could have simply reproduced a shoddy copy of it.

But it looked legitimate. Authenticity almost ascertained, Shadrach said with a hard face, "Marine."

The Dragonite blinked before breaking out in a grin. "My ass rides in Navy equipment."

Shadrach couldn't suppress a small smile as they began their "authentication" process. "Navy."

"Never again volunteer yourself!"

"Army."

"Ain't ready to be a marine yet, though I think we prove differently!" he said with a knowing wink.

Shadrach couldn't help but also smile. "So you're telling the truth," he said, relief evident in his voice.

"Don't blame you for being suspicious. But anyways, we need to get moving. Mirunas will probably come after us soon and whatnot."

Shadrach was perplexed. "Moving? Is there a helicopter picking us up? Wouldn't they notice?"

Lorenzo shook his head and thumbed his mic. "Freebird to Echo. We got the package."

The Umbreon looked oddly at him for a moment before noticing a disturbance in the air above him. Much to his surprise, a helicopter seemed to appear out of thin air, gentle white trails curving around its pitch-black hull. It was quiet, though, emitting a small hiss instead of the thunder associated with its rotors.

When it got closer, he saw that it was anything but a helicopter. Instead of having a large rotor affixed to the top or two rotors on the sides, as he had seen in tiltrotor aircraft made to be both helicopter and plane, it had two small pod-shaped engines pointed downwards, each pushing a small pulse of blue plasma out. Shadrach stared at it, half out of awe and half out of admiration.

"You like it?" Lorenzo asked, tilting his head upwards as well. "It's our baby, the Borealis. Premier active stealth technology, better than probably anything else on this planet so far. They let us borrow this for the mission, just this one. But no time for gawking," he said as the aircraft touched ground. Its back opened to reveal an interior outfitted for ten battle-hardened troops or, in their case, five casualties. "We need to get you guys out of here and cover our tracks."

A Sandslash popped out the back of the Borealis. "Yo, Lorenzo, what do we got?"

"Bury everything, Ross. Leave no traces."

The ground-type narrowed an eye. "Everything?" he asked, more out of confirmation than disbelief.

"Yeah. This is completely covert."

As the Sandslash wielded his claws, Lorenzo looked towards the two unconscious soldiers. Nodding to the Staraptor behind him once, they went to transport them into the waiting aircraft. and Nuwai, who had been previously unable to determine what exactly was happening, too assisted, helping Shadrach lift Levina into the fluorescent-lit hold of the Borealis. "They don't look too good," Maxwell said, pulling medical equipment from under a seat.

"We got attacked pretty badly," Shadrach said, sitting down. He relaxed slightly before tensing; he was in an aircraft that he nor anyone else he knew had ever seen before.

"Hey," he asked the Dragonite sitting next to him. "This Borealis... how it even possible? I haven't seen anything like it in the Halcyian inventory, even in the Air Wing. This thing is both invisible and silent, but it acts as a fast transport? Doesn't science make this sort of thing impossible?"

The dragon turned to the whirring of the closing cargo hold door. A dusty Sandslash went to sit on the seat besides Lorenzo, completely oblivious to all the sand he released everywhere. "Well," Lorenzo said after scooting further left, "The Borealis has a bunch of scientific jargon I don't understand, most of it involving 'plasma shielding' of some sort. Surprise, isn't it? It's been around for about a year, year and half."

"But this vehicle isn't even listed in the Special Forces specifications list." Shadrach frowned at Lorenzo and noticed his arm patch again. "And wait! There isn't even a 12th Special Forces Group!" His left paw reached instinctively for the pistol on his belt.

Lorenzo gave him a simple, even placating smile as the Borealis rocked slightly, propulsion engines firing up. "Do you know what HTR is?"

The Umbreon's jaw dropped slightly as all thoughts of defending himself vacated his mind. "Wait, what? HTR?" he asked disbelievingly.

However, Lorenzo had turned away already, conversing animatedly with the Sandslash next to him. Shadrach scowled at him before lying his head back in utter exhaustion. He could be worried about that later.

But what concerned him now was that the mission had definitely not gone as he had expected, something that majorly irked him. _It's my fault_, he thought, wanting to punch something. _There are so many things I could have done to to have avoided failure..._

Shadrach felt a stiff, thin square under his jacket, and wondered if it in fact was _good_ that they had failed. The Nidoking, Lyall, had revealed much valuable intelligence, and they were a step closer to cracking what Shadow was thanks to the Ein File he had passed off.

He reached and opened the container. A single disc with the words "File S" written meticulously on top gleamed back at him. It would help... well, _could_, if they figured out the encryption key. Shadrach removed the disc from its cushioned container, revealing a piece of paper behind it. The parchment was worn; it felt brittle in his hands, as it it would break at any moment. He noticed that it had the same handwriting from the disc as he read it.

"'I am a legend," it began, "one older than civilization itself, and have seen war and peace tear nations asunder. I have betrayed and have been betrayed; my plumage wears the blood of many a battle. I used to live among mortals, but the vast light of a thousand suns terrified even the bravest of my brethren. Now, I make my abode in the mountains of Francis; isolated from all but two, a friend and a loved one. Who is this shadow of a Pokemon, one who dares not show his face to the world? Who is this broken down legend, a god fallen from grace? Who am I?'"

The Umbreon blinked, then read it again. And again. And then wished that Siria was sitting next to him. He was never good at anything but military history, and nobody came close to fitting what the passage detailed. Older than civilization itself? That had to be an exaggeration of epic proportions. A light of a thousand suns? That had no scientific basis.

Frustrated, Shadrach snapped the disc case shut and laid his head back again. He'd deal with it later, once he came into possession of a library's worth of history texts.

* * *

Siria gingerly cradled the cell phone in her hand. Apparently, the plan she had purchased three years ago still existed for that one week every year when she would return to civilian life. The plastic form factor of the phone was absolutely foreign to her, mostly because the equipment she handled in the military was made to be durable and functional, not appealing. To be completely honest with herself, though, the Latias knew that getting used to how a civilian phone feels was the least of her worries when (no, if; no guarantee I'll survive) she reintegrated into society.

The ringer continued to buzz as it had done for the past half-minute. She couldn't help but grin at the long wait; Alyssa was never one for punctuality or seriousness. Despite that and many more dissimilarities, though, they remained the best of friends even years after separation.

Her ear twitched as the receiver clicked. She opened her mouth to speak, but a high, unmistakably feminine voice interrupted her.

"Hi, there, this is Alyssa! Uh, if you're listening to this, you probably missed me. I'm probably doing, um... something, or can't get to the phone, you know, stuff like that. Anyways, leave a message at the beep and all that, and I'll get back to you as soon as I can! See ya!" Some frustrated rustling. "Wait, how do I turn this off...? Fiona, it's this button, right?" A loud tone. "No, wait, would it be this-"

The Latias couldn't help but smirk at her friend's frustration as the flat tone beeped into her ear. Leave it to her to be a genius at pretty much anything but even the simplest of technologies. "Hey Alyssa," she started, "I'm finally back from the south for a while, about four more days or so. Anyways, do you want to meet up somewhere and do stuff? Hopefully you're not busy now; I know you have finals in a couple weeks. Call me back if you can go. I'm a bit bored around here with nothing to do."

She paused for a moment, thinking of what else she could say. "Love you," she finished a bit teasingly before snapping the clamshell phone shut. She knew that she didn't need to say the trite phrases usually associated with reunions such as "Remember me?" or "I'm Siria" to help the Dragonite identify the caller. The two were far closer than that for formalities.

The Latias sighed and slipped the phone back into her pocket. She had woken up late again, much to her ire, but she couldn't do anything but scold herself not to do it again. She was the only one in the apartment; her father had departed to work and Sirius was out with his friends... doing... something. She smiled wryly and put a hand to her forehead, feeling immensely sorry for those who they imposed their paper-thin hookup lines on.

But what was she going to do today? Perhaps she'd take a walk in the neighborhood, see all that had changed within the past year. Yes, that happened to be a good plan. She resolved to carry out the mission as soon as she had consumed breakfast.

She wandered over to the kitchen and opened a cabinet to find an array of cereal boxes, some colored much brightly than others. She stared for a moment; in the military, there had only been one flavor of cereal: bland.

Closing her eyes, she randomly picked out a box with a mascot Chatot on the front. A minute later, she found herself sitting on the couch in front of the television, munching on an assortment of colored circles whose range of hues was probably dictated by a heroin-induced high. The news flickered by disinterestedly: an internal affairs investigation in the Treasury (yawn), a brief exclusive on an extremely popular teenage singer (why did he strike her as feminine?), some thirty-second blurbs on a range of antidepressant medications (as if we need _more_ of those)...

Siria nearly choked on her cereal when she saw the next headline. Turning up the volume, she heard the Persian read, "And in a sharply worded statement this morning, Mirunas has issued another war warning directed at Halcyia in light of several recent operations, including the invasion of Riyaq and a purported attack on a village southeast of the city." As her mouth hung open, the screen shifted to a stock video of several soldiers, then to an angry Espeon unloading a verbose barrage of warlike rhetoric, then back to the reporter who had moved on to the next story.

_Already_ moved on to the next story. Siria wanted to leap up from the couch and scream at the television, but she was a self-conscious Latias; she wouldn't do that-

"What do you mean, that's it?" she yelled, nearly slamming the bowl on the table before her. "You spent thirty seconds on that! Thirty seconds on possible war coming between us and the next nation over! Do you realize- do you even know-"

Fuming, she sat down and crossed her arms. If approached from a rational standpoint, it would make sense in a cruel, twisted way that Halcyia could brush off such a statement. The only reason possible was that Mirunas had called for war so many times that another one of their "warnings" found itself shunted in the last fifteen minutes behind even an interview with a (still strikingly feminine) Bidoof.

Hot anger was displaced by disappointment. She knew she shouldn't be quick to judgment, but what she had seen during the past few days, both in the civilian life and on the television, dissolved her belief that there were those back in civilization who cared or even understood what the military was doing for them.

She turned off the television and returned her bowl to the sink. As she went to dress out of her sleeping garments, a sudden knocking at the door got her attention. At first, they were placid, but in the time she made the distance to open the door the raps grew rapid and irregular.

"Who is it?" she asked.

A scowl. "It's Sirius! Hurry up!"

The first thought that came to mind was that he was probably being chased by some rather pissed-off girl... again. "Who is it that's after you? I'll give her money afterwards."

"Just open the damn door! No joke!"

Unaccustomed to the Latios' sharp tone, she immediately worked the lock and opened the door. Sirius walked through without saying hello, carrying an unconscious elder Latios in on his arms. Siria saw that her father's left arm had been severely burned even through the slowly reddening gauze. Sirius set him down on the couch and immediately began examining the arm.

"He got injured at the factory today. One of the machines exploded," he said, sensing his sister's question. "Now his left arm's messed up. Doctors say that he might not be able to use it anymore..." He snarled, almost as if he wanted to destroy something in anger.

Siria could only stand there and watch the Latios attend to his father. Even though she tried to be aloof and remain above pitying her father, of all 'mon, she couldn't help but feel an insidious sympathy worm its way into her heart. She could hardly comprehend what life must be like without an arm - how would she shoot a rifle, attack an enemy, work a remote control, drive a vehicle, or type a report?

What really got to her was that this happened to her father, a single father, at that. First he had lost her mother, next, his children, and now, a part of himself? The second point really stung her, seeing that it was only _her _that he had lost, not the two of them.

"So anyways, I'm going to be taking his place at work until we leave," Sirius said somberly. "If his arm doesn't get better, then he'll be out of a job, but our pay can keep him living here... I hope." He stepped out of the room without saying another word.

Siria stared at the retreating blue wings before looking back at her father. She looked at his blackened arm, the various scorch marks on his khaki uniform, and the cuts all over his face. What had happened was obviously not just a run-of-the-mill accident that he could recover from in a week. And Sirius was going to take over the job tomorrow?

The Latias then frowned deeply at not the thought of her brother being put into danger, but at a more implicit realization.

She would have to take care of her father until the week ended.


	29. One For the Team

Right. For those of you high on happiness or something because of today's special occasion, I'd recommend reading this another day. It is a massive angst burger even though it is relatively short - I felt that the chapter's transitory length is necessary.

Happy (or sad) reading. Additionally, a homage to a very, very brilliant movie near the end.

* * *

Chapter 29: One For the Team

An Umbreon grunted and blearily opened his eyes before vigorously rubbing them. He hadn't noticed that he nodded off, and he berated himself for doing so. Relaxed actions like that could get him killed in combat.

Half-awake, Shadrach looked around the large tent he had dozed off in. Medical cots lined both sides of the olive green drapery, some containing some injured individuals and others empty, white sheets showing not a hint of disturbance. The two cots before him each held an Ampharos and a Leafeon. Both breathed in and out normally despite their heavy injuries, the former a bit more quickly.

Shadrach turned to the sound of a low sigh. Din sat on a chair next to him, staring at his bedridden brother. Earlier, Levina had awoken for a moment to complain about how she hurt all over, but Jul showed no similar signs of life. He laid as immobile as he was when they had first recovered him after the crash. This small fact caused the Umbreon to worry not only his health, but the squad's as well. If Jul was to be taken out, they would only be left with five of their original nine. _No, not five..._ he thought, _three, since Siria and I are leaving for HTR. _Chances were that the remnants were going to be merged into another squad, which was a shame because of the loss of unit cohesion. But perhaps they would be able to pull it off...

A warm wind cut through the cold draft the mountain climate pushed through the tent. A medic Infernape, head flame glowing brightly, walked alongside a dreary-looking Garchomp, showing her several papers and documents. Nuwai seemed to give them a brief glance before shaking her head and turning away.

"So," he said to Shadrach, looking down once again at his folder before raising her eyes back up at him, "I have some good news and some bad news. Which do you want first?"

Always the realist, the Umbreon quickly said, "The bad news."

"Well..." the medic trailed off forlornly. Nuwai sighed, giving much evidence to what Shadrach had thought prior.

"The Leafeon - Jul - he's... bedridden."

Din emitted a short hiccup. "Bedridden?" he asked, not making eye contact with the fire-type.

"That is..." The Infernape paused to search for a euphemism, but could produce none. "Comatose."

The clatter of metal sounded through the entire medical ward as the Vaporeon stood up furiously, knocking down his chair. His fists were clenched tightly, the whites of his bones showing clearly through his knuckles. His face was lowered so that none could see, but Shadrach noted a few tears trailing down Din's cheeks. "You mean to tell me," he choked, anguish crystal clear in his voice, "that my brother is... is in a coma. Unconscious. Not living."

"He's living," the medic said, hasty to correct any possible misconceptions. "Tomorrow we're transporting him back to FOB Archer's medical wards to give him some proper treatment. We don't know if we can revive him, but-"

Both the Infernape and Nuwai were crudely shoved aside as Din charged through them, running outside in what Shadrach assumed to be a fit of either anguish or anger.

"... there's a good chance that we could," the fire-type lamely finished. He looked at Shadrach apologetically. "But the good news is-"

A yellow hand grabbed him by the lapels and dragged him down to the face of its owner. "What the _fuck_ were you thinking?" Levina hissed, one eye open in a slit. The other was bandaged shut, affected by major bruising from the crash. "Why would you tell him that he was in a coma? Why? He's a damn loose cannon bent on depression, and you're telling him that he might never talk to his brother again?"

"Not... didn't... know," the Infernape weakly responded, airpipe severely restricted by Levina's gesture. When she let him go, he jerked up, coughing and gagging. "Sorry. I didn't know, but it's the truth. I didn't go into this profession to lie to patients, and I definitely won't do it to a soldier, no less."

The Ampharos was ready to throw a barrage of insults at the leaving medic, but Shadrach quickly cut her off. "I guess the good news is that you're awake and well," he said with a soft smile.

She snorted. "As if. And hey, aren't you going to go after him?"

He shook his head. "I won't. If he's unable to handle continuous death, then he doesn't deserve a spot on the squad. Sorry, Nuwai," he said as she balked, "But I'd thought that you, out of all of us, would know by now that Special Forces is a high-casualty service. If you wish to go after him, you may, but I will probably not admit him back on. I can handle some emotion-" He threw an askance glance at the bedridden Ampharos, who promptly rolled her visible eye "- but outbursts are intolerable. A night of crying, yes, a few drinks, certainly, but anything else makes the soldier inoperable and susceptible to decisions based on faulty logic."

The Garchomp's expression was crossed between sympathetic understanding and obvious disgust, but she did nothing but upright the chair that Din had toppled over and sit down on it, staring at the beds just like the Vaporeon had done earlier.

* * *

Siria took an idle bite out of her cereal, watching as her father attempted to fill a glass of water from the faucet with only one hand. She offered nothing but the faintest hopes that he wouldn't screw anything up or do something stupid.

Rather, she was perplexed, and rightfully so. She had watched as her father worked his way around the apartment since he had awoken, performing his normal morning rituals sans preparing for work. It was surprising to her that he had managed to fully clothe himself despite his lack of a functioning arm, and even more so when he insisted on doing everything alone without her help. The Latias had already diffused the _why_ of the matter; although he denied it vehemently, her father was a very prideful dragon, and would not let something as trivial as a mangled arm interrupt his day-to-day duties.

Now, as she took a thoughtful bite, she had to admit that despite her immense disapproval of her father, he was someone who she could actually respect. But that feeling disappeared as soon as she entertained the notion that the only reason he worked independently was because he wished to avoid her. What replaced her admiration was nothing other than a burning guilt as she realized just how traitorous her thoughts could be if she cared to look at them objectively. It seemed just... wrong.

_Not wrong_, she told herself bitterly, staring at the Latios approaching. _I have every right to feel the way I do_.

Siria said nothing as her father sat down at the table. He drank water, wincing slightly as his left arm rubbed slightly against the wooden surface. This small detail did not escape her gaze, which had somehow repositioned itself so it rested on anything but the face before her. She tried raising it so that she could meet him squarely in the eye, but the closest she got was up to the hand curled around the drinking glass. Suddenly feeling flustered, she simply preoccupied herself with another mouthful of cereal and a thought on anything but what sat before her.

Silence reigned at the table, interspersed with only the occasional munching or subdued sip. Siria could feel the Latios staring at her, but she didn't dare look up to confirm her theory. Then she'd actually have to meet him eye to eye, and she had no idea what'd she do then. Sneer, glare in anger, snort in derision? Or perhaps...

Sensing her father's mouth beginning to open, she immediately stood up and took her bowl to the sink. It was doubtful that whatever would come out of his mouth would be good, and even if it was, she couldn't care enough to lend an ear to him, of all 'mon.

It was thus to her pleasure when she turned on the water in time to render whatever the Latios muttered inaudible. She washed and rinsed the bowl quickly, taking care to place it on the rack and stalk off to her room without giving a single glance at the 'mon she left behind. She could feel the same questioning eyes drilling into her back as she turned left into her room.

An exasperated sigh followed the slight squeaking of bedsprings as she rubbed a wing, glaring up at the ceiling in staunch silence. She felt a strange mix of emotions running through her, all swirling and colliding and creating whatever mess that composed her exterior state at the moment. She didn't even have to take a second to consider whether she would rather be relaxing here or going outbound on a reconnaissance mission - she'd happily choose the latter.

Now _that_ was something strangely terrifying. She would rather kill and risk life and limb than to live in a quiet, solitary apartment with her father.

"Maybe I do need a psychologist," she groaned out loud, drawing her legs in. At the same time, though, the Latias watched the door warily. It wouldn't do to have anyone see her in such a vulnerable state, and she was more than willing to put whoever was there in a three-day coma.

_But what if it was your father?_ She grimaced at first, but then set her face firmly. She most definitely could, and would probably even relish the experience. Hell, there wasn't a reason she should have even hesitated on that; the answer was as plan as day-

She immediately jumped off the bed and crouched the sound of something shattering, slight electric energy forming around her hands. The hypersensitivity gained from years of performing operations made her ready to combat anything and everything that came her way - perhaps _too_ ready, in that regard. In the military, the trait had been a lifesaver for more times than she could possibly count, but in the relaxed civilian life, it could indeed be a veritable boon.

Cautiously, Siria peeked out into the hallway to see a Latios stare back at her. Ceramic shards peppered the floor before him, leaving her little to wonder about.

Walking out, she grabbed a broom and pan from a rack on the wall and looked back at the mess. Little bright pieces of cereal decorated the shambled matrix. "Idiot," she declared, holding her nose up high as she walked past her father.

As she knelt down to sweep the mess up, Siria felt something take hold of the broom. "Let me clean this," the Latios behind her said firmly.

"No. You're in no condition to do anything right now."

"Just let me do it. I can handle it alone."

Siria didn't bother to look back. "With only one arm? Tell me how."

"I..." In an unusual show of weakness, he allowed his voice to peter out as he actually gave chase to the question. "I'll figure it out."

"Just let go. I'll clean it for you." The surprisingly iron grip would not release the broom as she tried to move it, though.

Now extremely aggravated, she swung her head to face him. "Look, I'm going to tell you-"

She halted as soon as she realized that she was looking her father square in the eye. Siria quickly readjusted her gaze, but that one second combined with her photographic memory all but forced her to see and understand every aspect of his face. The whites of his crimson eyes ran bloodshot, evidencing many nights of lack of sleep - strange, he didn't seem that way when she first saw him - and his face didn't glow an angry red as they normally did when he was extremely angry. In fact, he seemed to have an almost resigned expression.

Another strong tug left her grasping for the broom absent from her hand. Her father held it stoically, face not showing even a hint of emotion.

"Okay, yeah, you got the broom," she snapped at him. "How do you plan to sweep all this up into the garbage?"

"I was planning to sweep it into a corner and scoop it up with the dustpan."

"When I'm right here? No way."

"Please, let me do this alone."

She raised her head at the comment. There was a nearly pleading tone in his voice, which made her all the more resolved not to acquiesce to his wishes. "No. We are striking a compromise. I hold the dustpan; you sweep it in."

Her father glared daggers at her, but she evenly met her father's acerbic stare. Siria thought that he wouldn't do it at first, instead seeing him just stand there doing nothing, throwing the broom down in disgust and retiring to his room, or even trying to beat her with it. She tensed at the last thought; now, far more aged and built, she wouldn't even let him swing it down before incapacitating him.

It was to her utmost surprise when she saw the straw broom begin to sweep the jagged pieces into the pan. Her father had a contrite look on his face, one arm hanging limply at his side while the other busily moved the broom back and forth. Compared to the time they had spent bickering over the cleaning, it took only a fraction of a second for them to actually complete the task. The idea humored Siria, and she let a slight, foolish grin escape her before looking back at the Latios. Then, as she found him watching her, the smile slid back into a firmly set poker face.

"So..." he said slowly. _Carefully, even, _Siria noticed.

Seizing upon his hesitancy, she said with a strong note, "I'm going back to my room." And she did exactly that, flopping onto Sirius' bed face-down with a soft _thump_.

The next, however, she flipped over and scowled, punching out into the air. Why exactly she did what she did was a mystery far beyond her comprehension. She willingly helped that bastard out without even a second thought, and even went as far as to _suggest_ that they work together to finish it up! Why the hell should she be helping him? Why did she feel obligated to? It didn't make any sense at all for her to be doing that!

Now she was certain that she would rather paratroop and fight her way out of hostile territory than stay here. _I really, really need a psychologist_, she thought, letting a sigh escape her.

_... what was Alyssa's major again, anyways?_

Siria struggled to remember; it regarded something in the medical field, she knew that for sure. Perhaps biomedical analysis, maybe restorative attack studies, possibly psycholog-

No other 'mon could have fumbled faster for her cell phone. She jammed the speed dial on the keypad and waited impatiently. The buzzing was maddening now, and she nearly exploded when she heard the click on the other line.

"Alyssa!" she exclaimed, overriding whatever form of "Hello?" the other could muster. "What major are you studying?"

She heard a flustered groanon the other line. "Hold on, Siria! I just got out of finals, and you're suddenly calling and yelling at me! And what? Major? Uhh, why would want to know that now?"

"No reason," the Latias expertly lied, staring up at the ceiling. "I was just curious."

"Well, you can't be curious for no reason," the voice huffed. "You and your 'curiosities' always pan out to be something else, you know... But anyways, biopsychology. Why?"

"Biopsych? When are you done with testing?" The Latias now sat upright, now exited by the prospect of finding someone she could talk at.

A slight pause. "Well, uhh... tomorrow is the last day, and then we get a few weeks off before next semester starts. When do you leave back for the military, anyways?"

"Three days."

"Hmm... how about right after testing? I need to wind down from all of those finals and stuff. How about that coffee shop near university grounds? I think you've been there before with us."

Siria nodded once even though she was fully conscious of the fact that the Dragonite could not see her. "The place we ate at on the tour? Where Sal and Noz got us thrown out?"

"Yes, that one!" She heard a giggle on the other side. "Though I don't think they'd, uh, remember you now, so I think it should be safe."

The Latias couldn't help but chuckle as well. "Right. So I'll meet you there then. Good luck on finals!"

"Thanks! See ya, Siria!"

With that the connection went dead. Siria tossed the cell phone out in front of her and sighed, head sinking slightly. She had to wait for a day and a half, huh? All of that time, waiting...

This time, a loud _thud_ from the kitchen caught her attention. _Probably not all waiting_, she corrected as she got off the bed, slight grin overtaking her expression despite her unwillingness to actually do what she had to do.

* * *

Din stared at his rifle as he passed it back and forth before his paws. The slight light gleaming through the ventilation slits of the portable toilet caused the barrel to cast off a dangerous, metallic gleam, reminding him for the hundredth time of its terrible ability to kill and maim anything staring down its business end.

Of course, during his weeks with the Special Forces unit, he had learned more about the force of death that he could have even guessed at for the vast majority of life. Looking back, the mere idea that he had been a optimistic, happy individual was farcical and borderline laughable. What was there to be happy about, with all of the killing and dying surrounding them?

It was not as if he was foreign to the concept of dying - when he had been a Resistance Movement member, he had seen many 'mon come back limbless or lifeless, depending on the severity of the mission. He had cried once, probably twice, over the deaths of a few friends. However, during his entire stay in the icy mountains of the Drakes, he had never seen anything like what he had in the past few weeks.

First was that Arceus-damned extraction mission of two of their (_Halcyia _their_, not RM _their, he thought) troops, only to be confronted by a ludicrous, startling scenario involving a completely homicidal, deformed Skarmory altered by a chemical injection of some sort. The thing looked like a cross between the normal and the traditional, non-morphic Skarmory of legend his parents had told him about. Regardless, it jarred him to see it attack and blow them away as if they were nothing; the fact that his equally homicidal brother almost died facing it down was equally horrifying. Then came some weapon that seemed quite similar to Arceus' Judgment came streaking down at who knows how fast and obliterating anything and everything before him. It was absolutely terrifying; he hadn't known that such a thing even existed. In fact, the entire night had been an eye-opener for him, perhaps a warning shot as to what exactly he would be dealing with in the future.

And what a future that was. He had fought down his shock and terror, instead replacing it with a calm temperament very characteristic of himself. He was glad he was asked to sit out the next mission because he would just be extra, unnecessary baggage for the trip. He didn't mind staying with Levina, though; despite the fact that she was rather snarly and snappish, he could tolerate her for the night. It would have been fine, except for when the helicopter returned with three individuals conspicuously absent.

He was first surprised that the Latios and Umbreon emerged somber looking, then startled to see a dead Lucario soon afterwards. The Vaporeon saw how the blood dripped off the long ears and onto the snow, staining it a fine, bright red. It took an immense amount of willpower not to go out and grab his lapels and shake him senseless to see if he was just faking, but the hole in the head all but deterred him from doing so. Instead, he had dropped his jaw and stared as they escorted the body to the on-site hospital, too nonplussed to follow. They had been good friends, very good friends; Din was saddened to have seen him gone before, but kept a stubborn, ardent hope that he was alive. He was then overjoyed to find that Ward had indeed survived, and was certain that he wouldn't die in war.

That belief was certainly shattered by that nerve-wracking image, but then, another different type of hope burgeoned within him: that Talal, the other he cared for, was still alive and well. So he went with the rest of the Special Forces units into the heart of the battle, saying nothing while Sirius and Levina bickered back and forth behind him. He wanted to tell them to just shut up and deal with their own losses - he contemplated his own in private, of course - but he couldn't summon the acerbity and willpower to do so, and merely remained quiet as the two stumbled upon a perhaps romantic awkwardness.

The hope persisted as he followed throughout the city, avoiding the mortar shells, the attacks from above, and of course, that mix-up when Nuwai unwittingly engaged them. Because Nuwai was a _Garchomp_, no less; Talal must be alive as well if she had maxed out her potential.

Then he saw the charred, blackened body.

Everything clicked then - that they had been placed under a tremendously strenuous situation, that someone had killed Talal, that Nuwai evolved because of the mental anguish and anger it put on her - and he, too, became upset. Very, very upset, to the point where he was five seconds away from punching that Umbreon's lights out. And what he said only infuriated him more because it _made fucking sense_.

It was certainly true that he shouldn't have been moping around in a hostile area. It was most definitely true that he shouldn't attract attention to their position. But dammit, he had emotions with breaking points, too, and at the point they went critical, the Umbreon wanted them suppressed down hard?

"Fuck!" he screamed, gripping the rifle hard. He slammed its stock down onto the plastic floor, facing the barrel towards his head. His paw moved down to settle on the trigger, but the Vaporeon knew that the safety was on. _Still_ on.

Din realized that it was the breaking point for him. From thereon, he had little motivation to operate, and even less to live. Talal was the last true contact he had with the world of the past. They had shared provisions together both under the heat of fire and the coldness of isolation. They had together worked out complex solutions that few others would have dared attempted. Hell, they had even passed off the honor of taking care of Nuwai from infancy to maturity; they found her as an infant, both mother and father probably dead from insurgent attacks.

_We few. We happy few. We band of brothers._

Bullshit.

Now all of that was gone. There was no one else to reflect upon those memories with, no one to laugh with, no one to talk to. All of that was in the past.

Originally, he had planned on continuing to live for both the sake of Nuwai and Jul, even though he wasn't sure if the latter was even someone he knew anymore. Although Jul was temporarily cured by the drug, he wasn't quite the Jul he had known before he had been abducted years and years back. But that didn't matter; as long as they were related by blood, he cared for him as much as he could.

But what he saw that night was far more brutal than anything he had previously imagined. The Nidoking was astoundingly powerful, as was that mysterious Typhlosion figure blazing through the entire village. He heard reports of a similar figure doing such things to Talal, but wouldn't believe the lies; it had to be the Nidoking, no one else. The Vaporeon was then gravely insulted when his own squadmates would not even allow him to exact proper justice for what the Tamsus leader had done to Talal and Ward, and even more so when the Halcyians actually worked _in tandem_ with the traitor to get home free.

Then came the crash. He was miraculously unhurt, with only minor cuts and bruises marring his body. Jul was a different case, though; he was unconscious and utterly destroyed. But Din was confident that it was only a temporary state; that he would be alive and kicking in not even a day or so. The Halcyians were good at helping their own, right?

Right. Because Jul was now in a coma and good as dead to him. That was just fucking perfect. The only one he knew left was Nuwai, and judging from how things were going, it wouldn't be long before she got killed too.

He didn't want to see that. He already saw almost his entire squad eliminated, and he didn't want to see the last go. He didn't want to be a survivor. He didn't want to be left standing. He didn't want to be _alone..._

His pensive thought was jarred by a pounding on the door. "Din! Are you in there?" a young voice asked. _Nuwai_, he immediately recognized. The Vaporeon gave the rifle a closer inspection before flipping the safety off with a strike of the paw. It flipped back fluidly, perfectly, just like how his death would be in a few moments.

"Let me do it," a slightly deeper tone said. Din heard a slight slash on the door before it swung open, yielding a Garchomp, Umbreon, and an Ampharos.

"Arceus!" Levina yelled, pacing back slightly. He saw that she was still heavily bandaged, but her fierce glare shone through nonetheless. "Din, put that shit down! Now!"

He smirked at them. "It's not even loaded," he said simply before reaching back into a pocket. He pulled out a magazine and stared at it for a moment. _Thirty rounds, full metal jacket._ With a sharp _chk_, he jammed it into the magazine well and released the bolt.

That was enough of a mandate for Shadrach to surge forward and try to wrest the rifle from the Vaporeon. Din's reaction was quicker, though; he turned the stock upwards and thrust it into the Umbreon's chest, sending him sprawling out onto the snow. He then protected against one of Levina's angry Thunderbolts, roughly setting the rifle down and shoving the steel barrel into his mouth.

As he finally resolved to do what he had desired to for quite a while, Din cast a final gaze out at the scene before him. Shadrach rose up out of the snow, a calm anger radiating off his face, Levina, determined, prepared to launch another attack, and Nuwai...

His eyes rested on the Garchomp's pleading, teary expression. Half of him wanted to throw down the rifle, to rush out and hug her. But he knew that she and he, too, were both bound for death, and he would rather not have her see whatever grisly fate would befall him. No, a simple shot to the head would be far, far more simple and peaceful.

"Sorry," he whispered before depressing the trigger.

To the soldiers' collective terror, Din's head exploded in a brilliant crimson shower, splattering the plastic wall behind him with both blood and memories long past.

* * *

So, uh, Happy Valentines?


	30. Buried

Chapter 30: Buried

There wasn't a time where she didn't want to meet the overly friendly Dragonite - until now. Being slightly deranged and definitely sick hardly made a pleasant encounter, but Siria felt it to be of utmost importance to talk with someone before she fell to even madder tantrums.

Of course, deep down, she knew said friend sitting across the table from her already knew of her thoughts, and was thankfully sympathetic towards them. Her green eyes intelligently shaping up the Latias, Alyssa took a calm sip from her drink. "So," she ventured with a slight claw-wave, "You're here about something psychological. There's obviously something troubling you about your service so far, huh?"

"Only you could deduce my motives so quickly," the Latias exchanged with a short chuckle. Being friends since gradeschool sometimes had that side effect. While often yielding embarrassing and hilarious results (often simultaneously), there were instances where such a link proved itself useful - such as now.

"So Siria, what can Alyssa Spark, Ph. D., do for you?" Her eyes gleamed with mirth, matching a small, sarcastic grin gracing her yellow jawline.

"Ph. D., my ass! You're not even a graduate student; don't sell yourself short," Siria said, evoking a laugh from the Dragonite accross the table. The red dragon's countenance darkened though as she said in a much lower tone, "PTSD," cutting quickly to the core of her problems.

Alyssa's grin disappeared in a flash, replacing itself with narrowed eyes and a tightened jaw. "Symptoms?" she queried.

"Inability to sleep. Inability to focus. Nightmares."

The Dragonite shifted slightly in relief. "Nothing like sudden tremors, twitching, muscle spasms, or anything of the sort?" she asked, pair of glasses seeming to have emerged from nowhere. Had the Dragonite been wearing a coat and had the backdrop been an office rather than a coffee shop, Siria would have sworn that she was actually babbling her brains out to a psychologist.

Alyssa reclined slightly in her chair as the shake of the head, claw grazing the chin of a puzzled face. "Sounds like someone just needs a good talking to, actually," she said much to Siria's surprise. "Sounds like there's a lot of stuff in hat head you've kept bottled up for a fairly long period of time, lots of suppressed thoughts that are giving you these ghosts. Metaphorical," she said as Siria started. "I'd be a bit more concerned if there was a Gastly haunting your soul."

A tight nod. "Yeah, it's actually been a while since I've talked about anything to anyone, really." She forced a half-hearted grin as she mentally slapped herself. Why was the stem of her problems always simple, little things; why did she have to overthink everything. She was deathly scared of talking to anyone about the problems she'd been experiencing ever since her brutal introduction to Shadow Pokemon. She couldn't talk to her comrades or even Shadrach about it; he'd probably be both disbelieving of the Shadow incidents and insensitive to her feelings, mostly because she doubted he could understand. Do you talk to someone who doesn't understand fear about how scared you are?

"You look kind of troubled right now, actually, so we should start with... Hey, Siria, up here," she said with a clack of her claws, snapping her out of her thoughtful gaze. "What's on your mind?"

* * *

"I don't believe it."

Despite having emerged from their first counseling session, Shadrach swore that this must have been the fifth or sixth time the Garchomp had uttered those words in sheer disbelief. News about Din's suicide had traveled far and fast, and those having had most interacted with him - his squad, namely - were essentially forced into counseling. The disgruntled Umbreon understood how it would be useful to soldiers who haven't had their stones turned to iron. Although that trait, cultivated from years of serving in Special Forces and the occurances beforehand, was not something he would voluntarily boast, it had its conveniences.

Unfortunately, its convenience wore thin after just the first session - may Arceus help him, seeing that they had five more to go. He found himself so disinterested by the session that he almost fell asleep, which is something that a Special Forces operator should never do in an environment that demanded some form of awareness.

Obviously, times were dark for Shadrach.

"It'll be fine," an Ampharos behind him soothed, probably rubbing Nuwai's back as the land shark fought back a few tears. Not like he hadn't heard those hollow, awfully generic words a hundred thousand times. The same thing would probably happen again, with the Garchomp further expressing her disbelief loudly, and everybody either chiming in and comforting her. The Umbreon's mind was far more occupied by other things, though.

The events that had occurred in the past couple months were abnormally freakish, an achievement considering all the bad shit that he had to go through. What Siria had mentioned about their enemies being super-enhanced war machines sounded absurd on its face, despite his desire to accept all of her arguments as cogent. But the Nidoking, the Typhlosion, their unnatural, powerful attack... how they split the earth open, turned their truck to splintered glass and ash from such a distance... and the riddle the Nidoking told him, too. The riddle in itself seemed to lend truth to what he had witnessed, forbearing mythical tales or some crap of that sort.

Needless to say, all of this deeply upset his past beliefs about what the Halcyians were dealing with in what seemed to be a fairly standard albeit difficult insurgency.

He stopped when the rest of the group stopped, looking up from his thoughts to see the hospital tents they stopped by every day. Jul remained in a coma, as usual, diagnosed as probably never being able to reemerge. Even if he did, Shadrach thought, his ability to fight would be highly mitigated. If his mental faculties did not go, then the coma would rob him of his physical capabilities which, even if he was able to recover them, would probably not match the ferocity with which he fought before. Losing such a skill set made him less efficient and probably incompatible with the standards that Special Forces demanded of the former Resistance Militia members.

A sudden bang and the sound of clattering medial utensils brought all of them into attack stances, watching the entrance warily as staff ran out yelling. Moments later, a green blur dashed through the pole that held the tent's entrance open, slicing it cleanly in two. Said Pokemon stopped suddenly in front of Levina, facing the Ampharos with a defiant, angry stare.

"Jul? Jul!" Nuwai exclaimed excitedly, almost jumping a bit. Her voice hadn't been that happy for some time, Shadrach noted.

Instead of returning any sort of response, he thrust a sudden punch into Levina's gut, causing her to double over. "Where is Din? Where is Din?" the Leafeon shouted next to her ear, eyes bulging.

Shadrach took no time in tackling the Leafeon, bringing his face down to the icy dirt in a fluid motion. "Stand the fuck down, Jul!" he yelled before being shoved back. He had completely forgotten how powerful Jul really was.

He heard some fabric rip as he leaned back from a Leaf Blade aimed at his chest, unholstering his weapon as Jul finished the attack. Had Shadrach not acted on his instincts, he knew for a fact that his organs would be splayed out on the snow. "Stand down," he said calmly despite his close encounter with death. "You're in no position to attack us. You come close, I put one between your eyes." The Umbreon heard an angry snarl from Nuwai, but he didn't quite care. He was in a foul mood anyways.

The Leafeon darted at Shadrach's legs, the two falling into the muddy snow before Shadrach even had a chance to slip a claw around the trigger. "Where? Is? Din?" Jul screamed, squatting on top of him. As the Leafeon brought a hardened leaf blade close to Shadrach's neck, the Special Forces member brought his knees close to his chest and kicked out. Jul flew back several feet and landed at Nuwai's feet, angry amber eyes meeting much softer ones.

"Jul... calm down. Jul?" Nuwai's voice, although soft, carried a hint of steel that definitely warned of bad things to come if she had to get involved. Despite being assigned a new uniform since her evolution, the obvious taut muscles only reinforced the Garchomp's implied threat.

His face seemed to soften for a moment in recognition of a very familiar sight. "Nuwai, you can tell me? You can tell me where Din is, right?"

Upon this question, the land shark's facade faltered. The distraught face, born from gruesome memories, hardly improved the Leafeon's temperament. He picked himself up off the ground and threw off the Garchomp's attempts to restrain him. There was one 'mon who would most definitely have answers. He had all he answers.

He leaped forward at the Umbreon, who still had a pistol trained on him. However, Jul felt no pain and heard no blast as he once again tackled Shadrach to the ground, lying on his legs to make any future attempts to kick him off futile. "Where is he?" Jul screeched, voice starting to strain from all the yelling. "Where the fuck is he? You know; tell me!" To make his demands a little more heard, the Leafeon dealt a blow to Shadrach's chest, drawing blood from the new gash in the Umbreon's combat vest.

At this point, Shadrach had to weigh his odds. If he tried to stall until his partners could do something about this maniac on his body, chances were that he wouldn't have a head to think with much longer. If he told Jul about Din's unfortunate... events, he didn't know what the enraged 'mon would do at all.

Both options scared him, but only one had a surefire gruesome outcome. "Din is...," he grunted out in pain, feeling cool air make contact with his cut, "Din... is..."

"Is what? Din is what-"

Jul said nothing more as a string of electricity splashed his back, causing the Leafeon to stiffen and simply fall off of Shadrach. He saw Levina in the distance, looking definitely pissed off with a bright glow wrapped around her hands. "You motherfucker," she snarled as she stomped over to Jul. "You want to know what happened to Din so badly? So badly that'd you try to kill all of us?" The Ampharos took in a breath, feeling pain in her gut from that previous punch.

"He shot himself in a bathroom stall. He's dead, Jul."

He stared at her, widened eyes looking to everybody for some sort of denial, anything to deny what he heard from the Ampharos' mouth. He didn't believe Shadrach, who issued nothing but a toughened nod. He didn't believe Levina, who glared daggers at him.

But he definitely believed Nuwai, the Garchomp's face contorted in a terrific, grieving, mess.

* * *

Siria told her almost everything, whatever her memory provided except for those certain details considered confidential or higher. She told the Dragonite about how she was almost raped, how she had to deal with all of her comrades falling around her, how she had to cope with killing such... complex enemies. Even so, she might have let a few slip, but she didn't quite care during the tumultuous, emotional roller coaster. She was just glad that she was able to get all off her chest without any fear of retribution, and even more thankful that Alyssa only sat and listened the entire time, not interjecting once.

"So..." she said, rubbing one of her antennae in thought, "That's... a lot that has happened to you over the past year, all horrifying and definitely not what I expected of you when we split paths. I'm... I'm sorry, Siria, for all of the horrible things that have befallen you since then."

"I came here for talk, not sympathy," the Latias replied perhaps a little too stiffly, seeing the Dragonite back up in her seat. "Err... what I meant to say is, I appreciate the condolences and all, but I'd rather figure out how to fix this than hear that someone's sorry."

"Oh, I wasn't just going to say sorry," Alyssa reassured her. "If anything, I wanted to get at the core of all the problems that are aggravating you. We'll work it like a timeline, starting from what started all of this so we have a frame of reference and dig everything out along the way. This would means that we would start from when... you got..." She grimaced as they exchanged glances, both perfectly aware of how heavy the topic was.

Siria let out a long sigh, face sinking into her hands for a moment. "The attempt on my body, yes." _Such a roundabout expression for what had actually happened to her!_ "It's just... I felt so incredibly violated and helpless, even though I learned all these skills and went through the Distortion and back, I would fall victim to such a shit-eating bastard, just like that! It makes me think, unjustly so, what the hell all of my training had been for if I would just end up succumbing to him."

Alyssa narrowed her eyes. "Do you mind if I intrude on an earlier memory, a few years back when we were still together in school?" She leaned forward a bit, making sure to meet the Latias eye-to-eye to communicate how seriously she took this qusetion.

"You mean when that overly zealous Rhydon tried to rape me," she said flatly.

"In a word - yes," the dragon said, words showing none of the hurt on her face. "However, we really cannot dismiss it as just someone 'tried to rape you'. The counseling you received thereafter didn't work out as planned, judging from your mental condition right now, which kind of discourages me since I'm not exactly half as trained as them," she said with a nervous laugh. "Though, knowing you a lot better than anyone but your brother, I'll try my best with it."

As awful as she felt inside, Siria attempted a hesitant, but actual smile. "Thanks, Alyssa. It all started with..."

* * *

"Hey, what's got you down bro?" The Latios found a Machoke sitting next to him at the table, looking at him a bit concernedly. Leonard, he had learned, ranked one up higher than his father in the factory, and took great liberties to express how close he was to his father. "Is your old man still in the hospital?"

The question hardly assisted in lightening Sirius' mood. A lot of things happened in the past week - his father getting hospitalized, Siria coming out about all these night terrors, getting reminded of their shot-to-shit family...

He looked forlornly at his sandwich, lack of appetite forcing him to wrap and pocket whatever remained of it. He's at home, thankfully," he said, hoping his face looked half as truthful as he imagined it.

"Hey, now, don't give me that crap. I know a problem when I see it, and boy, do you have some skeletons." He chuckled a little as he took a swig from a water bottle. "Your dad always used to tell us stories about you and your sister all the time, how you were good at this or how she won that award and all that fatherly stuff. He's a good 'mon, I'll tell you that!"

"Yeah-"

"But, now," he said, interrupting the dragon, "There were a bunch of things that he told me that weren't all so great, you know? When he told me you guys were coming back, he nearly broke down in my office, and you know I really can't have that going around." The fighting-type looked a little more serious now, face stoic and tone dark.

"That's why I reckon he went and damn burnt himself on the machine, cause he couldn't handle all that stress. I tried to help, I swear, but he just wouldn't have it."

Sirius bristled. Latios and Latias were filial creatures, family sacred and near their heart. "So what's the point in telling me all of this? Why do you care so much about us?" he asked defensively.

Leonard's eyes lit for a moment. "Cause you're gonna help me fix him. I've known him since we were high school buddies, and I'm not going to let him quit on me now. So are you gonna help me or not?"

A wary nod.

The Machoke sighed. "Well, from what I learned from your dad's ramblings, he doesn't - Hey! Yeah, you!" he yelled at a Quilava shuffling past him. "Do I pay you to just walk around all fucking day? Get the fuck back to the smelter before I throw your stupid ass in there! Move fucking faster, ya dickhead! Did a Glalie freeze your goddamn feet together?"

Sirius couldn't help but smirk at at the quickly retreating fire-type. "You can tell that I value really good workers," he said with a shake of his head, "Not retards like these, which is why your dad means that much more both to the company and me. I can't go off losing someone like him."

"That part couldn't have been communicated enough," the Latios said.

"Yeah, I get you. Anyways, to get back to the point, your dad thinks that you guys think nothing of him."

Sirius blinked at how abruptly he dropped that piece of information. Then he blinked again as he tried to process what exactly his father felt. Then... "What? Why?"

The Machoke drained the rest of his water bottle, compressing it flat with just one hand. "Something to do with you guys falling out of high school and into the military." he said nonchalantly.

"The fuck did you say?" The dragon snarled as he stood up, slamming his claws on the table. "What the fuck did you say? You piece of shit-"

"Hey, hey man, calm down," Leonard said, putting his palms up. "We can talk about this in a more... private place." He stood up and motioned for the enraged Latios to follow him.

"Fuck you-"

"Follow. Me." Although Sirius was rather tall, this was the first time he realized that the Machoke towered above him. Rage barely suppressed, his instincts told him that his chances of survival would be increased by listening to this very large 'mon. Growling, the dragon slowly followed, muscles never softening.

"And all you motherfuckers," Leonard yelled to the no small amount of workers watching, "Get the fuck back to work!"

* * *

"I really have to apologize for that," the Machoke said, settling behind his oak desk. "Both for the careless comment and making a scene. I didn't realize how close it was to you."

"Accepted," Sirius responded tersely from a rather plush chair. "But why the fuck would you ask me something like that?"

Leonard sighed. "I'm just looking out for your dad, you know, even if it means talking to his kids behind his back. He still thinks you guys see him as a failure and all that cause of what he said about, well..." This time, he offered much more reticence in speaking. "You guys getting expelled."

The Latios' expression immediately soured, seat becoming immediately uncomfortable. "Yeah, we got expelled. What about it?"

"Well, one of the things he was really worried about was cause he couldn't keep you guys in school, and from the looks of it, he tried pretty damn hard. What did you guys do, anyways, to make him think like that?"

Sirius would have most definitely responded with a sarcastic, "Oh yeah, so it's my fucking fault!"... except it was. The Machoke's question really took the wind out of his sails as he stared dumbly at the fighting-type's gray, stony expression.

Honesty was the best policy. "I beat the tar out of a rich fuck who tried to rape my sister. I put him in a coma."

Whatever the Machoke expected, it was most certainly not that. "Damn," he said with a low whistle. Sirius was certain that he was searching for something else to say, but couldn't materialize any response. "Just... damn."

"Yeah."

"I can see why your dad had so much trouble. Even fighting tooth and nail can't ward off an offense like that, really... I'm sorry, man," he said with a bow of his head.

Despite his lack of psychic abilities, Sirius could feel the emotion in Leonard's voice. "It's fine," he said huskily. "I didn't imagine dad would have felt so bad about not being able to keep us in, though. I thought he knew that there was no way he could work it no matter what." His voice was dull - all of this information was so new, so fast...

"So do you think he's a failure for letting you guys down?"

"The hell? No, I don't! Neither of us do! What the hell kind of question is that?" the Latios asked indignantly. "He went through hell and back trying to keep us in against all the odds cause of something I did, and he thinks that he's the failure? Why would he even decide to think - dammit Dad, you idiot!"

He heard a small beep, looking up to see the Machoke pocket a small recorder. "And that's all I need," he said softly, making eye contact with the Latios. "Thanks, Sirius, I really mean it."

"But-"

"I'll help your dad out from here. You guys only have a few days with him at most, so make the most of it! I'm here for fucking forever, so I'll help him back out of whatever the hell he's in." He rose from the desk, trundling to the door. "Take the rest of the day off, Sirius. You deserve it for all that I put you through.

As the door slammed shut, confusion dominated the dragon's mind. What the hell just happened? His supervisor dug up a battery of bad memories, recorded what he had said, thanked him, and then left? Was he supposed to feel happy that his father would be getting help, or angry that he got played like _that_, or indignant that someone would so brazenly ask him about his family life, or just straight-up confused?

Sirius made for the door, opting just not to think about what transpired.

* * *

_Despite her struggle to force him off with psychic power, the mass of the rock-type's body was simply too substantial. "Don't struggle," he warned between pants, claws cutting through her clothing, "Or your friend will lose a couple somethings." Siria shot a look behind her, seeing the Dragonite limp in the Scyther's arms. One of the gleaming blades laid close to her wing._

_Siria prayed to Arceus that Sirius had received her distress call, that he'd be here in a few seconds to set everything right in this world. There was no way, _no way_, that this well-to-do prick was going to actually succeed in violating her body. She could prevent it; she WOULD prevent it!_

_Such ambitions faded as the Rhydon slammed her against a cold brick wall in an attempt to deprive her of her shirt and jeans. A small part of her died when she saw her favorite Lugia shirt ripped in several pieces on the ground, but the greater portion of her mind screamed that she was nearly naked from the waist up - no, make that her entire body..._

_Why did she have to be so selfless? Why did she have to care so much about Alyssa, about what fate would befall her if the Latias didn't succumb to the rock-type's baseless demands? She imagined the gruesome things he would soon do to her as something she'd first enjoy with her mate for life as a consummation - not a rape! She wasn't ready for this! She had years of training in combat from her parents, a lifetime of learning how to defend herself, and it came down to this? Being cornered by a wealthy magnate's brat, unable to resist because a friend would be gravely injured for her refusal?_

Sirius, where _are_ you...? _she thought desperately, feeling those hideous claws starting to work her body. As he lecherously began to reach for undergarments..._

_A thump and a howl of pain sounded from behind, the Scyther tasked with threatening the Dragonite spurting blood from a fresh cut on his shoulder. Alyssa laid face-down on the ground, as motionless as before._

_As the Rhydon grunted in shock and turned about, his grip released on the Latias. She quickly and wisely took this time to gather Alyssa and carry her to one of the higher rooftops overlooking the alley. If her estimates were correct, things were going to get ugly fairly quickly down there._

"_Hey!" she heard the Latios shout. "What in Arceus' name did you think you two were doing to those girls?" As expected, the tone was laden with pure anger, as a brother tends to possess after witnessing a near-rape of his sister._

_A snort. "What does it look like? Trying to score some cheap pussy."_

"_That happens to be my _sister_." She saw Sirius fix the Rhydon with a cold stare, wisps of blue mist flowing out of his mouth. The Latias had never heard his voice in this capacity before - she was always used for some sort of singsong, joking undercurrent._

_This one was serious on a level where nothing short of Arceus' wrath would stand between him and the object of his anger._

"_Well, 'mon," the rock-type said blatantly, puffing out his chest, "Let me tell you, from what I've seen, you're sister's nothing but a cheap slu-"_

_The Rhydon didn't even manage to get the first insult in before the dragon roared in unmatchable rage, bringing a Dragon Claw straight up the Rhydon's torso. The expensive polo shirt virtually melted in the face of the heated attack as it rent three white-hot, unmistakable gashes in the rock-type's stony chest. Altho\ugh his hide was much harder than flesh, the scars glowed an angry red from the ferocity of the attack._

_Siria wanted to yell over the screams of the Rhydon to warn of the Scyther coming up behind him, but her brother was one step ahead. He whirled around and aim a well-timed Aerial Ace right at the bug-type's shoulder, evoking a sharp crack as an arm dislocated. Another Aerial Ace and the second arm met a similar fate. A third, and the body looked like a ragdoll when it collided solidly with a brick wall, trailing blood as it sunk to the ground._

_The Scyther dispatched, Sirius looked back toward the Rhydon. He was apparently more preoccupied with the tender wounds in his chest than the avatar of death looming above him. "What did you have to say about my sister?" the Latios asked simply, yet looking as if he could reduce the rock-type into chunks._

"_That's she's a grade A slut!" he spat back, hardly tempering his words and seeming completely unaware of the situation around him. "You can't beat me up! My dad will get your stupid dragon-type ass good-"_

_The last word seemed to sail out of his mouth as the Latios punched him in the jaw hard enough to dislodge more than a few teeth. Siria clapped her mouth with her hands as saw the pain on her brother's face, but the most he offered was a grunt as his knee connected with a rocky face. "You don't talk about women like that," Sirius growled softly, yanking him up by the horn and shoving his face into the Rhydon's._

_The rock-type's mouth tried to formulate a response. Only blood poured out, though, with a hint of several teeth._

"_Now listen." Grip still firm on the horn, the Latios forced the rock-type's gaze up to where his sister stood. "You don't treat women like that, either." A crack and a thud as the blue dragon threw the Rhydon into one of the walls, creating a sizable dent as the rock-type's face became powdered with mortar and brick. In a less stressful situation, Siria would have been impressed that he was able to pick up such a heavy 'mon and toss him so far. Pure, unadulturated rage tended to have such an effect. _

_However, now she was only preoccupied with their safety, and to an extent, the Rhydon's. If her brother went as far as to kill him, then..._

_As Sirius picked him up by the throat, the Rhydon blubbered out gibberish, body gone limp from shock. "No apology fixes what you attempted to do to my sister. Nothing you say or do will make me stop. Nothing..." _

_Mid-threat, Siria jumped down, nearly falling over as she tried to drag her brother back from the rock-type. She got him to relinquish his grip on him, though, even if the faint traces of an Ice Beam lingered on his breath. "Brother," she hissed, "If you go any further, you'll kill him."_

"'_mon like him deserve to be killed."_

"_Well, yes, but the trouble we can get in, Sirius! They'll come for him and then come after us-"_

_He growled audibly at her, causing her to flinch. He had never done that before... then, again, there were a lot of things he did today that he had never done before... "Then let them come."_

"_Sirius-"_

"_Sister. He tried to rape you. He was going to rape you. He would have gotten away with raping you if I hadn't arrived in time. And you," he said, voice starting to tremble, "You want me to stop. You want me to reconsider what I'm doing to this bastard and stop! I swear to Arceus, if it's the last thing I do, I will-"_

_Siria heard nothing after that as her brother's eyes, lit in white light. The world seemed to spin as a heavy psychic presence assaulted her mind, shattering whatever defenses she could attempt to mount and forcing her into a deep sleep._

_The last thing she remembered was her brother pinning the Rhydon, also knocked out cold, against the wall, attempting to get his jeans off..._

* * *

"And do you know what happened off of that?" Although Siria knew that Alyssa was trying her hardest to maintain a professional composure, her the Dragonite's face showed a clear amount of sorrow as she heard her friend's near-rape recounted. She found herself trembling as she completed the narrative, tears threatening to cascade down her cheeks.

"I... he... he castrated him."

A terse nod.

"And that was when everything fell apart, when we got ourselves expelled, when... when family became an issue, and..." She slumped miserably, putting her face in her hands.

She felt a claw touch her on the shoulder, noticing that Alyssa had reached over the counter. "I'm sorry for creating such a scene before you, for looking so weak..." the Latias mumbled, averting her gaze from the yellow dragon before her.

"To be true friends with someone is to recognize that they have weaknesses. I'm not hearing anything I don't already know, but I thought it'd be important if you said it out loud, for yourself..." For someone who was normally playful and bubbly, Alyssa was truly perceptive and intelligent - something that Siria rarely took for granted.

"But see, look, we're sitting here discussing everything, but we aren't really looking at how to fix what's wrong. C'mon, Siria, smile for me?" The Dragonite drew the crying Latias' hands away from her face. "Look at me."

Choking on her tears, she reluctantly did so. If her face was a mess, Alyssa was certainly good at concealing her opinions. "Listen here," she said, sighing. "I know it'll be hard for you now, but I want you to do a simple exercise." After a moment's pause to determine whether Siria was listening or not, she said, "I want you to figure what is similar and what is different between what happened with the Rhydon and what happened with the Glaceon. Can you do this for me, Siria?"


	31. Risen

Chapter 31: Risen

The sun setting in the distance, Siria wandered down a dirt road back home. Her cheeks no longer showed the tears shed earlier, spilled over navigating the roots of her inner problems. Despite her reluctance and shyness to the topic, Alyssa had guided her through the ordeal with an almost unnerving precision; never once did she feel nervous or anxious that what she was saying would reflect poorly on herself. Though her psychological state still wasn't quite stable, the improvement between her before and after was evident even in her steadier gait and the way she carried herself.

The persistent Dragonite, ever the expert in peer pressuring others, got her to quickly succumb to a day in the city, dragging her this way and that to see these tops and those dresses. Siria admitted that what they saw did look nice, despite how pathetically useless they would be in a combat situation, and was on the borderline of buying a pair of jeans had it not been for its exorbitant price. However, the Latias felt that the items she carried in her bag, a brand-new sketchbook and a set of soft charcoal pencils, were worth the money she would have spent on the clothing - after all, if there was one thing she insisted upon in their city run, it was resupplying on art supplies virtually nonexistent in the military. They'd definitely last her for another year of deployment.

A raucous commotion in the distance caught her attention. Training making her a little more than wary, she walked slightly faster towards the silhouettes against the dusk. As the noise became a little more distinguishable, she heard some laughing and yelling. Probably some elementary school kids doing something stupid, if anything.

"What did I ever do to you guys? Stop it!" a voice whined as she passed by.

"Why? Your dumb army dad going to come and hurt us? My mom told me that 'mon like your dad cause all the trouble we have now! It's all your fault!"

Well, as she was going to pass by. Interest perked, Siria practically towered over the scene below. A scrawny-looking Rattata kid, flanked by a fat Abra and a skinny, vain-looking Swablu. Between them was a Poochyena, crying out in pain as the Rattata gave him a firm kick in the gut.

"Hey, hey!" she immediately yelled at them as conscience bounded past logic. She shoved her way into the middle and stood over the victim, spreading her arms to mitigate their teasing. "Leave this kid alone!"

The normal-type gave her a smirk. He was the 'ringleader,' if his attitude told her anything. "Why? It's not like you know him or anything. Why don't you leave us alone?"

"You shouldn't be picking on someone, or beat him up! Aren't there other things to do besides hurt your classmates?"

An arrogant toss of the head. "He's not a classmate. He's just a whiny little bitch that no one likes-"

On normal days, the dragon was much more forgiving. But today, she had gone through an entire nervous breakdown - even though it had been cleared (temporarily, she assumed), and that hateful "army dad" comment made her decide that it wouldn't hurt to be a little bitchy. "Shut up," she said shortly. "If you don't shut your mouth and leave him alone, I'll..."

"You'll do what, bi-" His eyes bulged as the Latias focused a smidgen of psychic power on a patch of grass before them, foot-deep crater suddenly appearing with a sharp crack.

"I'll do that to you. Is that what you want, or can you leave this boy alone?"

"I- I- wi-" Without further ado, he ran tail between his legs, lackeys quickly following when they decided they didn't want to be pulverized into the ground.

With the annoying brats out of the way, Siria took a closer look at the Poochyena she had just saved. He carried the trademarks of harsh bullying, albeit harder to see because of his dark fur - a blackened eye, bruises all over his body... one of his legs seemed mangled, though it didn't seem to be from playground bullies pushing him around. She instantly set to fixing the more easily fixable wounds, thanking Arceus for her training with much more severe military wounds. All this time the small 'mon watched her, letting her fix his body without resistance. "What's your name?" she asked softly, not wanting to frighten him.

"Densen," he returned in equal softness, paws wrapping around her arm as she picked him up. "I... I can walk, you know."

"Not with that leg you can't, Densen," she said pointedly. "C'mon, I'll take you home. Where do you live?"

A few spurts of conversation later, Siria found herself walking towards the poorer area of the city. She knew the maze of apartment buildings and condos because of Alyssa, who had once lived in a particularly bad neighborhood. He was quiet for the majority of the trip, asleep in her arms from the slightly sedating effects of Wish.

It wasn't until she was a couple blocks from the address given when he woke. "Hey," he asked in the same softness as before. "Are you... you in the military?"

"Yes, I am. Why do you ask?" Her mind whirred into motion, though, as she started recalling what she had heard earlier. So far, she'd gathered that he was an army brat of sorts...

He curled up closer into her chest. "Well... my dad told me that some bad people hurt him, and that they took his eyes and his feet away. Mom said that he wouldn't be there if Arceus didn't send a blue angel and a red angel to look over him, and the way you looked... You should meet dad sometime. He's nice."

Siria's mind ground to a standstill as she tried to process this sudden information. "I'm sure it was just a vision he had," she said, remembering distinctly the Mightyena she and her brother had tried to operate on. That would be assuming that the kid's father was of the same species; he most likely wasn't though. She shouldn't be overthinking this!

Her thinking had distracted her from the walk, and she found herself in front of an apartment door. Two knocks later, a tall female Mightyena revealed herself to them. "Den, it's late ou- what happened? Den?"

"I found him getting beat up by a few kids on my way back home," the Latias quickly explained before several nasty assumptions could be made. "And his leg looked pretty bad, so I thought carrying him home would be the best thing to do."

"Ah..." Her muzzle contorted into a bit of a scowl. "Those damn kids, thinking they're better than him... I thought I took care of them last time, but they just seem to come back."

"If it's any consolation, they probably won't be able to pick on him without thinking about being ground into dust by psychic force."

A ghost of a smile graced her face. "Well, that's something to be thankful for. I insist, come in. It's the least I can do to thank you for defending my boy."

The interior of the apartment was spartan, living room consisting of only a couple couches and a small television. Siria set the Poochyena down on one before facing his mother. "He was talking about a lot of his father on the way back," she said. Both a truth and a lie, but what Den had set had set her curiosity ablaze.

Judging from the Mightyena's reaction, that was probably not the most strategic questions to ask. However, after a moment of painful silence, she scooped up Den in her arms and took him into one of the apartment's rooms. Moments later she reemerged, face distraught. "Please, sit," she said, motioning towards the sofa. Her voice cracked slightly at the command, though ever so slightly.

Before the Latias could open her mouth, the mother asked, "Did he say something about a blue angel and a red angel?"

She nodded, surprised that the Mightyena had deduced her motive so quickly.

"Thought so," she said with no small amount of bitterness. "You're part of the military, the Army, right? Right, I can tell just by the way you look."

"How-"

"Soldiers carry a different look than everyone else. More grizzled, harder, less emotive. Subtle, but still there. Few see it. Fewer have the courage to acknowledge it." A rattling sigh filled the room. "Benard, my husband - my former husband, that is... he was part of a convoy going deeper into Tamsus territory, and his vehicle got bombed. That's what the report says, anyways. He lost the left side of his face and one of his legs to the damn guerillas fighters, and then, his life... I don't suppose that Den talked about his father as if he was still alive?"

If Siria wasn't convinced before, she certainly was now. "Yeah, he did," she responded hollowly, especially preoccupied in her thoughts.

"That's because I haven't broken the news to him yet. He's too young, way too young... but the days leading up to his death..." Though even, her voice carried no small amount of sorrow.

"He talked about how there were two 'mon who worked furiously to save him after he got bombed. A red angel and a blue angel... a Latios and a Latias," she said softly, fixing her gaze on her. "I know it's probably far from the truth, but did you... are you..?"

The Latias was bewildered, scared, and touched all at once. Bewildered because she realized that she was in the house of the Mightyena she had treated, scared because she didn't know how this heartbroken mother would react, and touched because of how poignant the story was...

"I...," she started unevenly, wondering if honesty was actually the best policy, "My brother and I tried to repair his wounds... my brother bounded out, and called me a few minutes later. We looked it over... he had lost a lot of blood already, from the leg and the face. I tried to seal up all the surface wounds so he would lose less blood, but it just... even my brother..." She stopped for a moment, watching the Mightyena's expression growing more and more griefstricken by the second. That didn't ease her speech in any manner.

"We didn't know whether he would survive or not after the helicopter evacuated him, but we hoped for the best..." Her eyes fell to the greyish carpet, regret and disappointment filling her heart. "We tried our best... I'm sorry..."

A paw fell on her shoulder, steadying her uneven breath. "Don't worry. I know you tried your best, child..." Siria sensed her eyes tracing her body. "You're young," she noted, looking straight at her. "What's your name? How old are you?"

"Siria, still under twenty," the Latias said. It was an odd feeling to her to have face down far greater threats, yet feel suddenly subordinate to this mother. Maybe it was because she sensed great intelligence and wisdom behind those dampened yellow pupils.

"Young indeed, young indeed," the Mightyena murmured. "Have your parents served before?"

"My father," she said rather tersely, moments later cursing herself for the acerbity in her speech.

The mother hummed softly. "Not your mother, I presume. How do they fare with you and your brother so distant from them so often? It must be hard..."

"My mother is dead." A slight widening of the eyes, but no further hints of surprise. "My father? I couldn't care less."

An uncomfortable silenced reigned between the two females, Siria's mood immensely soured by the slight mention of the elderly Latios. The mother seemed to work an amulet in her paws, causing the Latias to unconsciously feel the locket on her neck. Even though it had been so long, all of her experiences seemed to have happened yesterday... memories flew back past the valiant Wargle, back to selection for Special Forces, back to boot camp, back to their home, back to...

The Mightyena bowed her head slightly. "It's a shame to hear... I don't mean to pry on family matters, but if I could offer a few words about it, in the light of recent events..."

"Sure," she said, still disgruntled by the topic.

She saw a flash of an angular, black face in the mother's metal charm before she drew it back close to her chest. "Sometimes... sometimes you don't understand how much you value a person until he's gone. Sometimes, Bernard and I had so many arguments, so many fights, and I took his presence just for granted. We would make up, things would mend, and he'd be there tomorrow, and forever. It wasn't until... it wasn't until he disappeared that I realized how empty I felt inside." For the first time since she met her, Siria saw tears well in the dark-type's eyes.

"And now, my son has to grow up without a father, without someone to look up to, without someone who would support him no matter what the case is. I can try to support him on my own, but it only goes so far before everything starts breaking down, before he realizes that someone in his life will never be there ever again." The Latias heard a slight sniffle as her thoughts immediately darted back to Shadrach and the missions he was probably assigned when she was gone. If he disappeared from her life...

"And then I sometimes think about what would happen if I suddenly go missing, and it's frightening, to say the least..." She unclenched her paw and set the amulet on the table before her. "If I could pick something to have said to him before he died... if I could have done just one thing for him before he died..."

The Latias muffled a small yelp as the Mightyena took her hands in hers. "You still have something left. You still have a chance to cherish what you have. Don't be like me. Don't get complacent with them being there every day because you don't know if they'll be gone the next. You seem to have problems with your father - would you be the same if he was suddenly gone tomorrow? What about when you return home from your next deployment, to find him forever gone? It's easy to say it to someone's face, that 'I don't care', or, 'It'll never happen,'" she said as Siria began to open her mouth, "but when you search your soul... what you find is a little different, isn't it?"

Siria inhaled as she processed all that she had just heard, preparing some sort of rebuttal or response about how her father treated her awful, or how she'd been abused. But as she felt the doleful wolf's eyes staring- no, boring into her, she hoped that the mother wouldn't pick up on her squirming. Despite trying to prevent it, she began to think about her father, and whether it was just to accuse him of what he did, and whether she was in the right in keeping an eternal grudge...

She looked back up to see the dark-type smile knowingly at her. It was more than probable that the Mightyena saw her struggle with some of her inner demons - the Latias wasn't sure what to do. Should she thank her for giving her somewhere to start, or hate her because it made her think differently, or remain ambivalent, or-

"Siria, was it? At the very least I should offer you dinner for helping Den back home."

The dragon gave an emphatic nod, thankful for her ability to produce anything that would ease an otherwise awkward social situation.

* * *

Dinner was nice, if not as simple as the apartment. It tasted better than military slop at least, which she was thankful for.

After a couple of profuse thank-you's, a long walk home, and avoiding waking her father sleeping in the rocking chair, the Latias found herself cross-legged on her bed, not quite willing to sleep yet. That, and her brother was snoring so loudly that she probably couldn't sleep even if she tried.

What the Mightyena told her still rang clear in her mind, unshakable no matter what she tried to distract herself with. Was she undervaluing someone she really cared about? But she didn't really care about him, did she? Did she?

Yes, her father had yelled at her her, but he was drunk with sorrow at the time. Yes, he had beat her, but he sought her forgiveness no matter how many times she gave him the cold shoulder. And what made her more confused than ever now was how despite knowing that there was someone who could help him clean up his mess, he still tried to do it independently. Did that mean that he didn't want to rely on her, or try to show her that he wasn't weak, or...?

Speaking of which, he was still sleeping in the living room without a blanket. He'd get sicker than he already was.

Speaking of which, when did she start caring?

* * *

It dawned upon her that in the past several years of her life, she had never looked into her father's room.

If anything, it was cramped. Photography equipment littered the oaken bookshelf to the right of the room, looming over a desk with tons and tons of papers - undoubtedly from Sirius and her father cleaning during the past few days. To the left was a large bed, suited for two even though it was painfully obvious that only one side was really used. A television and several picture frames dotted the dresser before the bed.

She thought nothing of the pictures at first as she retrieved the thin blanket, but curiosity ate at her as she walked back from the living room. Peering at them, she had to use her fingers to wipe the dust off of a couple. The first, the most dusty of all, was a picture of him and her mother on their wedding day. Although it made her hate herself to admit it, he looked rather handsome, hand in hand with a rather lucky Latias. She pondered for a moment what her mother would have thought of her predicament, had she still been alive.

The second was dusty still - the very same greyscale picture of her father with Sirius in the scrapbook, posing outside the military base after they had been recruited into the Army. She noticed that her back retreating in the distance was cropped out, and an involuntary pang struck her heart.

It was peculiar that she could see the last so easily, or so she thought. As she picked the oddly clean frame up, her hand began to tremble as her brain tried to comprehend what she was seeing. Her memory came fast to her; the picture was taken when she was a sophomore, a year before they were expelled. The Latios had an arm curled around her shoulder as she held out one of those stupid certificates for being top of the class. Trivial as it may have been, it made her parents happy at the time, and it made her look good, so why not?

That was the last photo she remembered having taken with her father.

She set it back with a whimper, choosing to collapse on her father's bed. As she put her face in her hands, tears began to fall from her cheeks with her convulsions. It hit her harder than any bullet or any attack could - the minor details of how only hers was kept so clean and how long ago that photo was taken hit her like an Ice Beam, so petrified she was. For all these years, she thought of him as nothing but a devil, and he put her up so high up on a pedestal just to be slapped in the face for his efforts. She had been so foolishly blind, so caught in hate and anger that she didn't recognize that there was someone who loved her so deeply he would give his life for her in an instant.

She didn't even realize it was her father's room as she fell asleep, tired and crying.

* * *

It was fairly embarrassing for her to have woken up in her own bed the next morning, blanket tucked in up to her chin. She had panicked, frantically wondering if her father had brought her back, or if Sirius had found her, or if she went back on her own accord. The thought never left her mind as the last few days of leave slipped away. She had made amends with her father, or at least tried to. She had been bold enough to cook a meal for the family on the last night, and was glad to see that the skills she acquired from her mother had not worn thin from combat.

Now, as Sirius mumbled in his sleep about "Getting that hottie" or an equally shameless subject, Siria sat quietly at her desk. The yellow desk light illuminated a small sheet of paper before her and the pencils she had bought a few days beforehand.

The Latias, in all of her time with her father, skirted around the topic of why she was treating him so differently, why she didn't simply give him the cold shoulder all the time. She didn't feel that it was something she could talk to him directly about - not yet, anyways; she would burn to death with shame if she tried.

Instead, she picked up a pencil and drew a stroke. Then another. Night faded to day as she worked ceaselessly on the drawing, putting more passion into it than anything she had ever drawn before. What laid before her deserved that much.

Much like the night, the day boiled away as she and Sirius prepared to return to the wintry Drakes, packing their bags half resignedly, half eagerly. Unlike her Latios brother, Siria appeared much more exhausted. Her work robbed her of much of her vigor as she tiredly folded clothing and packed away the remnants of her civilian life.

Finally, it was time to exchange goodbyes. Sirius looked abashed for once in his life, reciprocating a great, hearty hug from her father while shooting his sister a look along the lines, "Don't you dare say anything." She smirked at the two, knowing that his futile request would be the subject material to occupy their trip back. After the old Latios finally released the younger one, he attempted to look at his daughter, but his gaze faltered. As he shuffled his feet slightly, Siria felt that it was finally time for her to take initiative.

The height disparity was painstakingly apparent as she tiptoed to hug him, giving him a small kiss on the cheek as she felt his claws fumble awkwardly back. As they released each other, the look on his face would have made her laugh had the simple gesture not meant so much to her. "I...," she said, unable to look him in the eye. "Goodbye, father. Stay well, for both your sake... and mine."

* * *

He ascended the staircase slowly, injuries making the trip more laborious than ever. He had seen his children - though they really couldn't be called children at this point - off back to the war, which made him more distressed than ever. Would they come back to him alive or in a coffin? Or would they returned mangled physically, or mentally, or both?

Maybe it was time to retire.

He went through the door straight to his room, thoughts lacking the clarity they usually had. The Latios was absolutely boggled by what her daughter had done to him, considering her harsh attitude towards him in the past years. That was the first time she had made physical contact with him since... he would settle for the answer, "too long ago."

He laid on his bed, rubbing his leg. A bandaged claw reached for the remote on the table besides him, about to turn on the television when his eyes registered a slight disturbance among the picture frames on the dresser. The dragon bothered himself enough to walk the distance between his bed and the photos, even though it hurt him to do so.

There was one less! He recognized the picture with him and his deceased wife, causing sorrow to rush back into his heart. He had promised himself he'd let go because he knew that's what she would have wanted, but doing was much harder than saying...

But the one with Siria was gone! Blood drained from his face; what intruder could have possibly done something so sadistic to his cherished-

Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed something different about the picture he took with Sirius. And as he raised it closer to his face, he too fell back on the bed where he had found his daughter that morning, tears beginning to cascade down his cheeks as he started laughing and laughing. He had mistaken it for a photograph at first, but it was a charcoal drawing so impeccable that it very well could have been a picture. He and Sirius still stood outside of the compound, as usual, but there was a third, shorter character standing besides him wearing a brilliant smile.

He opened the back of the frame, the original photo peeling away before he felt rough paper. There was something written on it that made him crack a smile through his tears.

_It is one thing to imagine the past amended, and another to truly amend it._

_My convictions lead me to walk between the two._


End file.
